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Die Alone

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Summary:
I wanted to post more darker poetry for this month but honestly I just don't have much time these days. But I'll post what I can before Halloween.

I can’t seem to heal these painful scars 
the ones that are running down my arms 
feels like my time is coming to an end 
when every thought pushes me to the edge 
and as I breathe into the night 
I know I’ll never see the light 
the things I’ve experienced drove me crazy 
sleeping in a dark room makes me uneasy 
praying for a God that understands
praying even though I never believed in shit 
I’m picking off pieces of flesh 
wish I could stop this madness 
I finally know what real hate is, it’s me
I see it every time I look at my reflection
seeing the blurs in my eyes
seeing them because I cry
how cruel of this world
to let me die alone

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    9 COMMENTS

    1. Damn

      This isn’t Halloween poetry, it’s every day shit in today’s world. Today’s all too real world.
      Let’s pretend it’s rainbows, unicorns and cotton candy-filled ice cream cones day today. Can we, please? Pretty please? Just one day? No?
      Darn.

      Love your ink, my friend.

    2. Awww. This is writing that comes from everywhere. From watching loved ones go through suffering or ourselves.
      Writing is a great escape but sometimes it sticks. There is no escaping but in that moment of writing we are controlling the pen. We are the master of how it’s written. This is powerfully bittersweet.

      And I gotta give a shout out to that pic!

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