Nov 2014
My bones creak
and they remind me of my soft screams on the nights I cried until I drowned myself
and when I wake up and feel it stab me in the same places all over again and again and again until I stopped the bleeding with a bundle of your painted words and tried to bandage myself with a thin layer because I didn't think my hurt was so deep
and maybe this is why I'm tired even after I wake up
and maybe this is why I like the pitch black empty silence of my room
and maybe this is why I hate the **** fact that I've been sad for a while hoping someone will save me from this dark river and it's stung my eyes so bad that I wouldn't be able to open them and see that I am the one not swimming or kicking or fighting.
and they remind me of my soft screams on the nights I cried until I drowned myself
and when I wake up and feel it stab me in the same places all over again and again and again until I stopped the bleeding with a bundle of your painted words and tried to bandage myself with a thin layer because I didn't think my hurt was so deep
and maybe this is why I'm tired even after I wake up
and maybe this is why I like the pitch black empty silence of my room
and maybe this is why I hate the **** fact that I've been sad for a while hoping someone will save me from this dark river and it's stung my eyes so bad that I wouldn't be able to open them and see that I am the one not swimming or kicking or fighting.
