Fingers dancing over a keyboard,
pens flowing ink for storybooks, telling whats in store.
Bodies merging together to create physical love.
But here i stand alone,
THe cuts on my arm healing,
the bruises ive gathered, not showing.
The abuse ive given myself, not whethering.
Couples swaying to the musical beat,
Hands are held,
eyes will meet.
As i watch with envy,
ANd i cut into my wrist, this dreadful deed.
Snuggle my teddy bear, in numbing defeat.
Have i lost myself?
Her arms are covered, like always.
Her hair covers her face, hiding away tear strewn cheeks.
Her sadness almost palpable, like everyday misery.
Her sorrows, drowned out with beer, smoke, and cuts.
Her bruises fading, from school fights.
She smiles and laughs off the mean jokes her friends tell.
She cuts to show on the outside, what she's feeling on the inside.
She cries herself to sleep at night,
She wonders when she will die.
SHe hopes it will be soon.
We are one. We are GONE!
Categories:
whethering, sad
Form: Free verse
tiny little creatures dancing on my insides.
tiny little ants building to make a whole.
tiny little demons make me world go spinning.
everything inside me is made by me.
everything going on is because of me.
everything i do is because im me.
wondering why tiny butterflies stir.
wondering if my time will fly.
wondering why i make me cry.
maybe its not about me it never was.
maybe its about him.
maybe because the whethering does.
Categories:
whethering, loveme, me,
Form: Free verse