Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2017
Flying fist,
I'd die if I missed,
Hit a wall,
Crack a knuckle; or two,
Try not to fall.

Plagued with anger
Plagued with pain,
Hating myself for behaving this way.

See blood,
Dripping down,
Covering the wall,
Covering the ground.
See my frown,
Oozing with blood,
resembling a clown,
I descend to the ground.

Bruise of black/ purple appearing now,
Making me circle
with urgency, panic,
My expression becomes manic,
I feel the bone crumbling beneath my skin,
Let the explanation begin.

Perhaps so,
Even if it was,
I wouldn't tell them so.

Ashamed of myself for acting this way,
Condemned to finally decay,
So I'll let it **** me,
In my coffin I'll lay,
Finally to die and be buried this way.
Written by
Eloi  20/F/London
Please log in to view and add comments on poems