Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
Pursuit to be fragile and small
Pursuit to break
Oh god these constant ******* tears are the only consistent truth that I hold

Because time after time, delusion and trance
clears
and what's left is the ******* reality that there is nothing here

God i hate this body
I hate my words
I hate my regrets
so many ******* regrets
can't stop bleeding
bleeding

"Can I still get into heaven if I **** myself?"
white coat
Written by
white coat  between no where and now
(between no where and now)   
635
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems