Honey, why do I run around trying to erase the pain.
I spread it out, but I just end up on a bigger mess.
You hold it in, put on a shy smile, you walk in small steps and hide your face, lost into the crowd.
You know we're both in pain, but I have to let it out.
My brain is water and my thoughts pour off my mouth.
I have to break things,
Yell shit,
Walk up to him and punch his fucking face.
While you just say he's not worth it, while you just cry in silent, I scream, and hope that it stings like the thousand knives he carved in my chest.
But your silences hurt him more than my yells of hate.
I have to get that closure.
Have to...I don't know.
I just do. I don't think.
I would rather make someone else cry than let my own tears escape.
And I know it's wrong.
And I know your play is smarter
But at the end of the day we both end up crying in bed, hugging our pillows to shut the voices in our heads.
YOU ARE READING
Deadly - Poetry
Poetry/Feel free to kill me anytime. Isn't that what you were made for?/
