Most of the time she's blind.
She doesn't see what's really there.
She doesn't see the pain from her words; the hidden tears.
She's also deaf.
She doesn't hear my cries in the silent night.
And most of the time she doesn't choose to.
Or she doesn't care enough to hear the pain leaking from my veins.
Blade? No.
Staple? Yes.
1 mark, 2, 3.
Tears.
She still doesn't see. I'm alone. He takes her side every time. Why did I yet again expect differently?
Blade? No.
Scissors? Yes.
1 mark, 2, 3.
More tears.
Again, like a broken tape. Dejavu hits strong.
Blade?
....
Blade?
Who knows.
KAMU SEDANG MEMBACA
Angsty Poem
PuisiI wrote this depressing poem a few years back. Warning: Mentions of self-harm.
