What's right and what's wrong?
I cannot tell anymore
Nothing is clear; it's grey
And I am feeling torn
Because words are thorns
Tearing at my wrists
Scratching up my joy
And ripping me to bits
I am human and I have feelings
My heart can also hurt
But nothing pains me more
Than those reckless words
Because words are daggers
Cutting up my heart
Stabbing into my back
And slicing me apart
[So, my ranking has risen again thanks to all the comments on the previous chapter. Isn't it ironic?]
YOU ARE READING
The Mixed Bag
PoetryMixed Bag - Something that has both good and bad parts. This is my mixed bag of poetry from the mixed bag that is my mind. Highest Ranking: #415 in Poetry [May contain dark content. Read at own risk.]
