I bleed,
you scream,
they ask why,
you ask how,
I explain,
and take a bow.
My beautiful symphony of pain.
Now on full display.
Anyone could see it,
everyone could read it.
Word for word, I reveal my pain.
I see no point in hiding the facts you can read off my face.
I see no point in hiding what is obvious.
what should be obvious.
but you all choose to be blind.
You don't want to see my scars so you play them off in your head and listen to every lie I spin.
I hope the day it ends you all finally realize you could've saved me.
I hope you realize all I needed was to be heard.
I hope you realize that I opened these scars to make you see.
written on my skin,
in front of your eyes,
my pain inside,
on full view.
but none did.
they all stayed blind.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a mended artist.
诗歌this will be a part two to my other set of poems. please read them but they are not needed to understand these. These will be much sadder than my original ones usually.
