the migraine in my head,
pounds like a thousand bullets hitting metal.
the scars on my legs,
bleed like roses in the summer.
the hair on my head,
falls like the leaves from trees.
and the stress overtakes my body
like a caterpillar turns into a butterfly. it's pain written in grains of sand.
pain hidden from everyone's eye.
except for the rare person.
who sees right through the act you've prefected for so many goddamn years.
all the years you spent crying in your room,
hiding your emotions.
all the years of you telling yourself just to fake it a bit longer.
all of the years you've told yourself that it will get better.
but it doesn't.
and that's just life.
or is it hell.
YOU ARE READING
•P O E T R Y•
Poetryjust some sad poetry that i write at random hours of the day and night. now here's my emotions.
