She's pulled it across her skin,
And it's too late to stop her.
She doesn't know,
The affect it has,
To see those on a person.
I know why you're guilty,
But what made you happy?
What even drove you to that?
She may have done it,
And you were the only one who hadn't.
You didn't want to be alone,
As the only one with no scars,
No bleeding lines.
Now it isn't just her,
It isn't everyone else,
Because now it's you too.
YOU ARE READING
Just A Mess
PoetryI'm not too sure as to what this is, but I often get bored and lost in my thoughts, so why not write them out? As I wrote I created poetic sentences, lines and phrases. So, I hope they can be enjoyed despite their mainly heavy topics. This book cove...
