My wrists run black
With the darkness inside me,
The pain I am aching to spill.
It bleeds off my fingertips
Onto these pages I give to you.
YOU ARE READING
Survive: Collected Poems
Poetry~WATTY'S 2019~ ~NOTICE~ AS OF 2/3/19, THIS COLLECTION HAS TOO MANY PARTS! READ VOLUME 2, THRIVE, OUT TODAY! On the pain, love, and passion that makes me human. Potential swearing, mentions of suicide, self harm, depression, rape, etc.
Ink
My wrists run black
With the darkness inside me,
The pain I am aching to spill.
It bleeds off my fingertips
Onto these pages I give to you.
