The Chaos

Thoughts are Just as Deadly as a Gun

I am beaten, bruised, scarred, and torn.

Ripped, bleeding, disfigured, and worn.

My eyes are bloodshot and are heavy with tears.

My heart is empty; I've lost everything I kept dear.

My hands are shaking, but they clench into fists.

My thoughts are surrendering to a illness they dismissed.

This sadness drowns me and crushes my wavering breath.

This grief steals what little I have left and I am no longer a person.

This fury abuses me and I have no more blood left to bleed.

But the funny thing is is that these will not be the ones to kill me.

No, the madness is destroying me and will rip my heart out until it no longer beats.

For after all, nothing kills a man faster than his own thoughts.