This isn’t anything special. It’s just a poem I wrote at 5 am. Even though it’s not that great, it describes my inner turmoil.
I want to talk about this pain,
That I’ve felt was always in vain,
Do you really not see,
What’s become of me?
On silent nights,
I always fight,
As tears run down my eyes,
Each teardrop breaking my ties,
My ties with this world,
As I am hurled,
Into this insanity,
Which will never set me free.
My teardrops slowly become red,
Food for the blade that I’ve fed.
They tell me that all will be well,
While I slowly rot away in this hell,
Could they not tell […]