Writing.
Is a way for me to escape.
Is a way for me to vent out and let some of my feeling escape.
Creating words and strong meaning
Distracting you from the
Hidden sorrows
And the tear filled letters
amd I so much admire your rewire
To a certain extent.
you cut me open with
Your knives of anger and pain
Showing me how much
You yearn to hear that
I do not remain on this
Ghostly plain.
Your words stab me like the knives you bare.
Twisting and turning like
You never cared
Even when you used the
3 words the fell from your
Lips like a wave
Picking me up and sending me out to sea
Only to drown in what's left of me
Relaizing how mistaken
I was in the very begining.
I hate you
I hate me
I hate the world
So fucking give me that knife
And let me be free.
YOU ARE READING
Loud Pøetry Spilled From The Quiet Soul
KöltészetAll of these are mine. Not the Internet. Trigger warning. (Self mutilation, depression, anorexia, etc....) And my apologies if they aren't even slow to Bukowski or Anything....I just wanted to try
