so what should i do when i hit rock bottom,
when there's nowhere else to hide,
nowhere else to go,
to escape.
what should i do then?
when the red sweet hot boiling blood sweeps down my thigs and arms,
when the only smell in the air is fresh bleech used to clean my newly made cuts,
when the only emotion I have is numbness,
when the only material i feel is the hard cold sharp metal piercing through my white porcelan skin breaking it so fast and harsh but also making it so delicate,
when i can feel the air closing around me tighter, rougher, firmer, holding me in its warm and welcoming yet very deadly hug,
when the shouts and sirens turn into a slow lullaby singing me further and further down an empty path, calling me closer to its light, whispering to me "i can help you, i can love you, i can take you away from here",
when i believe the beautiful angelic voice and start running towards it throwing myself into its arms only to be met with a cold blooded rageing force kissing and biting my scars hungrily, making me feel all fuzzy on the inside, tending to enjoy the pain it gives.
what should i do then?
YOU ARE READING
It's not a fairy tale.
Poetrythis is a book, filled with poems that either I wrote or saw inspiring. Some of them are about love, some about more dark things, writing is my way of dealing with the pain. I hope you find them inspiring also, or can feel some type of comfort upon...
