These bitter vile words plague my head,
Soft little lies that build and break,
Telling them I am not quite dead.
With all of the feelings I fake.
Together what a pair we make,
Deep depression and hot self hate,
Staying home just to lie awake.
The knife far too heavy a weight .
It sits so cold against my skin.
What will it cost me to begin?
YOU ARE READING
Assorted Poetic Musings and Ramblings
PoetryA compendium of my poems. I just needed to put it out here at this point. It's less for you, the reader, as it is for me to know its out here. These poems are not for the faint of heart, mostly because they're bad enough to kill, but also because...
