This is not my dream
to be a walking corpse
traveling on an uneven cracked road
scared to look up
hiding trauma behind a flat expression
with every essence of life stripped away
and an unheard voice screaming to be set free
with lungs of stone
and fear struct to breathe out.
Stuck in a loop
of a painful secret
with a love-hate relationship with my abuser
who's damaged by her own foolishness
and shamelessly chokes me
with her false love
with her kind lies
and with her own hands.
YOU ARE READING
Cold Nights ||Poems||
PoetrySometimes I just need a way to express how I feel when I can't put it into words, I'm sure we all feel that way whether you're a teen or young adult. Mental health deserves to be heard, you deserve to be heard.
