Nobody listens.
But that's nothing new.
No one understands.
But that's familiar, too.
Instead of relying on support from my peers,
I hide myself away and give in to my fears.
The blade of my scissors cuts into my skin
But to me, it's relief from the pain deep within.
I cover the scars with long sleeves and a smile
That threatens to break every once in a while.
Each time that it does, I hide once more
And re-open each scar behind the locked door.
The smile I wear on my face every day
Is a mask that I put on to hide pain away
But nobody listens
Instead, they all hate.
So they'll never care for me,
Until it's too late.
YOU ARE READING
~|:|~Poems~|:|~
PoetryJust a few poems I put together throughout quarantine because I had nothing better to do with my life. Quick warning, some of these deal with dark themes and mental illnesses, such as suicide and self-harm. If you are sensitive to these sorts of top...
