Silver kissed my lips,
And left a red stain.
A familiar dance, I tried so hard to refrain.
The only difference was the steps I missed.
The part where it's supposed to hurt...
And the part where pain was dismissed.
In this quiet ballet of self-harm's embrace,
Silent echoes, without the usual trace.
No sting, no ache, just a numb terrain,
Lost in a dance where shadows reign...
Relapse is hard, a relentless bind...
In the haunting echoes of a wounded heart,
Resilience falters, a bleak restart.
Stains linger, scars tell a tale of pain,
Hope's whispers silenced, a futile refrain.
YOU ARE READING
Poems: Gade 12- Present Day
PoetryFrom another guy in the world, to you. Words that aren't spoken, but remain true. I hope you find comfort in my poetry too. A rusted connection to my reality, because honestly. I've lost it.
