The pain was everywhere.
Slowly but rapidly eating at me.
Threatening to rip me to pieces.
I felt it in my head.
I felt in my bones.
Most of all,
I felt in my heart and soul.
As each word was said,
It felt like a dagger to the heart.
Cutting me open,
Spilling my blood for the world to see.
They're watching.
Waiting.
For what?
For me to break,
To burn,
To die.
They don't know what it's like.
It's a constant battle.
A battle with myself,
And my demons.
I can feel it now.
Ripping through my soul,
Through my bones,
Up my throat.
The pain comes out of my mouth as I scream.
I scream into the night.
I scream for someone to make it go away.
But the more someone helps,
The more it hurts.
They're touching my open wounds,
Causing them to burn.
At least the burn causes me to scream.
And the pain reminds me that I'm alive.
Something I don't want to be.
So I scream.
Stick your head out the window and hear my screams.
Do nothing.
YOU ARE READING
My inspiration
Short StoryThis book will be a collection of short stories, poems, and quotes that capture my interest. Some may be happy, others will be sad. But that's just how my mind works. My poems aren't all that great, but hey, I try. I hope you enjoy it. Suggestions...
