To what I called my greatest treasure
Became the bane of my existence
That burned and hurled at my soul
Like the devils fire that wouldn't be put out
It scratched at my throat, and bit at my toes
Making goosebumps spread through my body
It hurts. It hurts so much to move.
Pained every muscle I moved
I need to get the pain out
It clawed at my heart slowly each time
I grew numb to the feeling
But it pressed harder to my heart
The bane of my existence
What I once treasured and called myself
So lucky to have
Little bugs hide behind my eyes
Putting memories of all of us together
Up on the inside of my eyelids
Every time I blink, even not
Hurting every inch of my soul
I want it to stop. I claw at my head
To get the memories out
I punch my temple to get them out
Hoping to rumble the bugs that hid inside me
I make my legs bleed to make the pain stop
Hoping to distract myself
I want it all to stop
What's the cost if not my life.
__________________________
YOU ARE READING
Hopeless Poet
PoetryI write about the world. Her, him, the places of meaning, aggression, compassion, or human nature. TRIGGER WARNING !! some poems talk about s*elf harm and su*cide. Please do not read if you are sensitive to such topics. I will try to put a trigger...
