Darkness surrounds me like a blanket,
Bruises cover my skin,
No one to hug and tell me it's okay,
I gave it all away,
Be it my love or my innocence,
Fought the ones who were actually there,
All I got in return was a black eye,
I have had enough,
I have given up,
I take up my razor,
I bring my fragile wrist closer,
And look at my poor vein,
As I smile,
I cut once,
I cut twice,
I cut thrice,
Thrice is the lucky strike.
YOU ARE READING
Heimat
PoetryHeimat means a sense of belonging, and poetry, for me, does that. This is a collection of poems I have written from my teenage years and continue to write into my twenties-a glimpse into my soul for those who wish to peek.
