It doesn't hurt anymore,
these new bruises on my head,
one above my right eye, one on my forehead,
there are no trails of red.
Though there is a slight stinging,
a small ringing,
I still feel happy as ever,
my room filled with my laughter.
The yet to be shed tears stay clear,
my head is throbbing,
my mind is screaming,
my heart is sobbing.
While my head wants to stop rhyming,
my heart tells me otherwise,
though the pain is not sublime,
my feelings go up on the rise.
Though, yes, it still hurts,
I will say, no it does not,
even though it's a lie
added to my fragile disguise.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryJust some rants by me. Maybe I'll publish my sucky old ones, maybe I won't. You'll never know.
