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StandintherainPoems
I can't hold a conversation with them They spit each word with their own hurt They come to me hurling my own agony They are wicked and cruel I will not shed a tear yet The clock will strike midnight I might shed a tear I might just let my agony turn into anger Cruel and wicked are their intentions I bite my own tongue and keep quiet If I become numb to my emotions What will I become When midnight comes I'll be numb
0
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 6:37 PM UTC
turmoil
I can't hold a conversation with them They spit each word with their own hurt They come to me hurling my own agony They are wicked and cruel I will not shed a tear yet The clock will strike midnight I might shed a tear I might just let my agony turn into anger Cruel and wicked are their intentions I bite my own tongue and keep quiet If I become numb to my emotions What will I become When midnight comes I'll be numb
-- this is a way for me to vent my emotions a few days ago I will not edit or change anything it's what I was thinking and going through in that moment written on:14/03/18
#anger#hate#controlled#ache#agony#wicked#cruel#pain#emotions#midnight
Standintherain
Written by
Standintherain
26/F/nowhere
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 6:37 PM UTC
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