Blood stains,
Blood drips,
It seeps out wounds,
And rarely quits.
It hurt,
But not a lot,
I guess it depends on how numb you are inside.
On our weeps, and cries.
Along with our broken dreams,
Are our internal screams!
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryWarrning: Some may contain triggers such as •Self-Harm •Suicide(Attempted, and successful) •Disorders •Self-Hate And more
