Stabbing backs
Is what traitors do
Turning coats to blood Red
From a royal Blue
You wear them proud
With your rifles raised
Up to my temple
My mind is frayed
By bullets and bits
Of bitter tasting memories
A cannon ball of emotion
Knocks my tears out with ease
As my royal Blue coat
Turns red from my blood
Yours slipped elegantly off
As you ignored my royal blue flood
YOU ARE READING
This Is The Sad Part
PoetryA selection of poems I've written that represents my experience with depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues.
