Wounds

Sometimes we struggle through life

And sometimes we don’t,

Sometimes depression eats at us

Until all we see in the mirror,

Is a shattered face.

 Sometimes we think we’ll be okay

Even if we know we won’t

And we still hurt,

All I feel is pain

Crushing my soul and eating my heart.

 I don’t care about desperate cries,

Or pleads for help,

Or even my pain

Because I’m too used to pain,

To care.

 Only the pain comforts me,

Only the sweet,

Tear drenched words I speak,

Give me release,

From my misery.

 Why do I worry anyway?

Only the blood of which I spill

From innocent eyes,

Is enough to override the urge I have,

To shed black blood

From tender skin and watch,

As sorrow whips their words

Out of their throats,

A silent symphony.

I wish to kill them.

 Funny how they can’t sense

My pain,

My bleeding heart,

Or my bleeding name.

 Only teachers would think truth

But no,

No amount of life is fair,

Not one single breath,

Or a hair,

Nothing will be seen beyond my glassy stare.

 My wounds fade away

But here my scars will stay.