The Murderer, The Victim

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My legs, my arms, I pity them
For they've forgotten what pain is
The skinny flesh along my stem
I pity them, for love they missed.

My nails, my hands, I'm scared of them
For they don't pity me at all
They dig my skin, once overwhelmed
I'm scared for into hate they fall.

My eyes, my lips make me ashamed
For they're the ones who judge me so
Their judgements were not at all tamed
It brings me shame, for truth I know.

My ears, my mind drive me insane
For hate I hear, the mind recalls
The hurtful things inside remain
And can't be solved with building walls.

My heart, so fragile and so weak
I fear that once, the whole might break
Nowhere to be found is the peak
If it's a dream, when will I wake?

6.10.18

Edited: 10.4.18

Shallow DepthsΌπου ζουν οι ιστορίες. Ανακάλυψε τώρα