There's this girl I know.
Who has felt so much pain.
And seen some great tragedy.
She has a tainted heart.
And broken dreams.
A soul that has felt so much bullet holes.
That the bullet proof vest has been blown to pieces.
She has the most
Heartbreaking tattoos
Self made from the cuts skin deep.
Cries herself to sleep at night
To release the raging war inside.
A fragile scared little girl
Hiding behind the mask of a strong teen,
Judgemental of herself
And hateful of the world around her.
She isn't that teen excited about anything
Life has to offer.
Just waiting for life to start
And for the deadness inside to float away.
Silently trying to find any small shred of inspiration.
And tiny bit of happiness.
She appears to be there.
But yet somewhere far away.
How do I know this?
Because when I look in the mirror
Dead brown eyes stare back at me.
That girl I talked about.
She is me.
YOU ARE READING
Mixed Creations
PoetryI see things around me and I want to speak about it moreover rant. Because once I had no voice and writing became my voice. My words are my weapons yet their my savior. These pieces are connected closely to my personal life and from the world around...
