If you were to look inside,
You'd be dismayed at the mess I've made.
A battered heart, struggling to beat.
Broken bones, splintering and protruding.
Bruised lungs, sputtering to keep oxygen in.
A mind that bleeds, clots, and bleeds again.
I do not know how to be anything other than unhappy, and miserable.
Anytime I feel even a small morsel of happiness, my brain works overtime to extinguish the light and replace it with darkness.
I just want it to end.
Somebody, please, make it stop.
11/08/22
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Rainfall
PoesíaA collection of poems written by me, some are based off my experiences or just random inspiration.
