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wormswormsPoems
**** you internet, Stop picking roses and asking me to ignore the thorns, Cut off their heads, Give me the thorns, I don’t need to make myself smell sweet for you, Empty head, Brain dead, Fill it up with faults in our stars and the perks of being a wallflower, We all know ants can carry away common sense, If there are enough of the ******* But don’t peg me as a simpering idiot, Sitting in the dark waiting for poetry to illuminate demise, I’m not black and white, tears rolling, all alone, Go **** your rusty razors, I don’t need anyone to kiss my scars, I am forty thousand thunderstorms, I destroy what I want and I will always make you run for cover, I will use all my energy to summon starving rain, Just to make everything feel normal, I have been my own casualty and I have been my own champion, But victim isn’t in my vocabulary, I never wrote wailings on white, Or measured my problems in aesthetics and ‘reblogs’, You are not ‘beautifully broken’, Love is not masked by exquisite pain, And I don’t believe in the charms of your never ending night, Because the sun always rises, And I would rather let it burn me up, Then lurk in the shadows like you.
0
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
Bloodless
**** you internet, Stop picking roses and asking me to ignore the thorns, Cut off their heads, Give me the thorns, I don’t need to make myself smell sweet for you, Empty head, Brain dead, Fill it up with faults in our stars and the perks of being a wallflower, We all know ants can carry away common sense, If there are enough of the ******* But don’t peg me as a simpering idiot, Sitting in the dark waiting for poetry to illuminate demise, I’m not black and white, tears rolling, all alone, Go **** your rusty razors, I don’t need anyone to kiss my scars, I am forty thousand thunderstorms, I destroy what I want and I will always make you run for cover, I will use all my energy to summon starving rain, Just to make everything feel normal, I have been my own casualty and I have been my own champion, But victim isn’t in my vocabulary, I never wrote wailings on white, Or measured my problems in aesthetics and ‘reblogs’, You are not ‘beautifully broken’, Love is not masked by exquisite pain, And I don’t believe in the charms of your never ending night, Because the sun always rises, And I would rather let it burn me up, Then lurk in the shadows like you.
#depression#pain#illness#mental#tumblr#internet
Written by
wormsworms
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
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