thinking back to all the times i've cried myself to sleep
i find that i can never remember the reasons why.
could've been the blood running down my pale cheeks,
or the purple galaxies that were drawn all over my chest;
the stitches ripping at the seams of my mind.
it's not like it even matters.
it's for the best that the memories i have fit together,
like a mismatched puzzle.
summoning my past doesn't have any effect either
i've blocked everything,
as deep as the marianna trench,
for the sole reason,
to keep everything hidden,
even from myself.
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
thinking back to all the times i've cried myself to sleep
i find that i can never remember the reasons why.
could've been the blood running down my pale cheeks,
or the purple galaxies that were drawn all over my chest;
the stitches ripping at the seams of my mind.
it's not like it even matters.
it's for the best that the memories i have fit together,
like a mismatched puzzle.
summoning my past doesn't have any effect either
i've blocked everything,
as deep as the marianna trench,
for the sole reason,
to keep everything hidden,
even from myself.
Request permission to use this poem