knives and stakes won't cure my aches,
a frightened child's cries won't stop the lies.
Inside, my soul still dies.
The barrage of blood won't stop my teary flood.
The cuts, the slits, the needle that I shove,
can never help my heartbroken love.
So take the gun, and run.
Give me a head start to hell.
Shoot me in the heart and never tell.
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Poems.....
Poems i wrote. They are dark, unexpected, and the real me. Can you handle it? Thou Shall Read Poems If Thou Dares To.
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