Sometimes
I return to that still-dark place
Where there's nothing to laugh about,
But plenty to write about.
There're lies that keep spilling out,
Walls that keep people out,
Excuses that leave my mouth
Blood that keeps seeping out my wrists
And thighs...
At times like these, I overthink,
Refuse to eat, and seldom drink.
At times like this, I'm on the brink
Of tears.
I wish you'd hear my silent cries,
I wish you would dissect my lies,
I wish you you'd see through the fake smiles
That hide the redness of my eyes.
Sometimes, I wish you'd see the pain
That floods my heart and clouds my brain,
That pulses through my every vein,
That I try to cut away.
At times I wish you'd feel my tears,
The anger pent up over years,
Memories too painful to bear,
And feel my every fear.
—M.
30/09/2019
10:02 AM
YOU ARE READING
In My Head
PoetryI wish I could call this poetry, But even that Would be pushing it Wouldn't it?
