Drowning
In my memories,
In the moment.
Pain washes over me
As the blade slices,
Deliciously deep.
I don't care now
That it’s deeper
Than ever before.
Blood, oozing out
Of my eased-apart
Skin. Thick and red,
Not real looking.
Viscous and glistening,
I am locked in a trance,
With no way out but pain.
YOU ARE READING
Welcome to the Psych Ward
PoetryThis is a story. It is not fiction. It is not written to elicit sympathy, only to shed light upon this misunderstood topic. It is written poetry-style and is not exaggerated in any way.
