Blood boiling
Hands shaking
Adrenaline rushing
I want pain
So bad I lust for blood
Everything is just too blurred in my brain
All i see is red
As for everyone against me,
I want them dead
I feel anger so alive,
So constant, so strong
I don't have to wonder how it thrives
I can't even think
In fact, I don't even try
I'm too close to the brink
The edge of it all
Either i hold it in
Or cause my own downfall
YOU ARE READING
Whispers of the Wounded
Poetry//Poetry written by the pained// I keep thinking That if I keep whispering These terrible thoughts to this wind Maybe I'd see the meaning in something again //Cover by the amazing @anixkuh//
