Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Pain. Suffering isn't it? First, it will hurt you. It's like tearing you slowly into pieces. You would feel the emptiness running through your veins until you slowly get used to it. Your body has been warped with drugs, It's a battle with yourself and there's no other way but to find comfort in every slit you make. Then you'd be drowning in slumber; exhausted weary, numb, hands dangling off at the edge of the bed to let the monsters know you are willing, and there, you'll find yourself in great relief. You find your cuts bleeding under your sleeves and it makes you fall in love with it. You suffered so much, yet you are willing.
0
Sep 27, 2020
Sep 27, 2020 at 2:18 AM UTC
Pain
Pain. Suffering isn't it? First, it will hurt you. It's like tearing you slowly into pieces. You would feel the emptiness running through your veins until you slowly get used to it. Your body has been warped with drugs, It's a battle with yourself and there's no other way but to find comfort in every slit you make. Then you'd be drowning in slumber; exhausted weary, numb, hands dangling off at the edge of the bed to let the monsters know you are willing, and there, you'll find yourself in great relief. You find your cuts bleeding under your sleeves and it makes you fall in love with it. You suffered so much, yet you are willing.
Written by
Sep 27, 2020
Sep 27, 2020 at 2:18 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem