Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Self destruct not a personal choice
Its like being possessed
Not having your own voice
addiction takes over like a interdimensional entity
Feeding on our souls
Draining our energy
Self control out of reach
Anger building up
Nowhere else to hide
Run away
Been left on my own another day
Thoughts getting louder is it just me?
People still judging
on what they can see
A poem about self destruction and anxiety
what's written
in red ink
lies pain
burried deep
enough to not
make a sound
aon lann
go géar
nó fírinneach
a thógáil amach
cad atá tú

no blade
that sharp
or untrue
to take away
what is you
Credits to Temporal Fugue for this beautiful poem I found
Broken minds are the ones
That try to mend others
With their kind
Woolen patches.

Their words often remain
Filled from head-to-toe
With scars that refuse
To open

Their mouths are sewn shut
By the demons
They had once fought,
Seeking revenge
By making their brains rot
I hoenstly didn't know what to do for the last line, sorry
I want to strum to the beat
Of your heart,
Dance with your soul.

I want to pretend
Your name wont leave me
With sorrows
As soon as you go.

I want to make our last night
One you fight
To leave your memory

I want to watch as
Our last embers
Fade out of control
From the black coal
That turned to ashes.
I couldn't run,
I couldn't hide
So I kept a silver blade
By my side
Red as the blood
Seeping out of my skin,
I can feel myself
Drawing in
To the silver glow
That only God knows
Has never left my side
Next page