As I stand in the steamy shower,
sharp blade in my hand.
I think to myself,
I could press this blade hard enough,
and end my suffering,
but I don't.
I can only imagine how the innocent soul,
would react to my lifeless body.
I'll rather settle for my regular,
adding more to the collection of scars.
I am deeply aware of my pain,
it's a blessing and a curse.
Knowing where and why it hurts,
but having no idea how to stop it.
It's like having an open wound but nothing to stop the bleeding,
so you bleed onto everyone you come in contact with,
blaming them for not being able to stop the pain and bleeding,
forcing them to leave.
I want to not be here,
but that's selfish,
so I'll suck it up and wait for life to do it's thing.
YOU ARE READING
It's not all black and white
PoetryA personal collection of all my poems. >TW< This is my first book so if you enjoyed reading my poems feel free to vote and leave a comment. ❤️ Lots of love
