Sometimes I wish I should've driven the blade in deeper m,
So deep that I slice off my veins.
But, a little voice in my would ask,
"What good would that do?"
The little voice was always right.
Nothing good would come out if it.
Because, I would be hurting the people who love and care about me,
More importantly, the one who created my entire being.
Even though I threw the blade away,
Even though I have recovered from searching for means of physical pain,
I cannot help but sometimes think about closing my eyes and never waking up.
Just sometimes. Not as often as I used to.
Sometimes.
YOU ARE READING
Epigrams
PoetryIt appears you've found my book and before you decide to read it's contents, know that... These poems are everything that is me. (Also the cover was made by my buddy FierroThorne!)
