Her tears fall like glistening rain
Shimmering in brilliance, mirroring her pain
Her suffering revealed with drops that stain
Depression is laid open, showers from her veins
He stands behind her, watching her silent struggle
He sees the dripping blood, but ignores the puddle
She stands with a knife, ready to crumble
He doesn't move, he watches her stumble
Alone in her life, she slowly cuts away
Hoping to heal, but the wounds remain
And behind her he stands far too late
He watches her cut, but thinks she's okay
The wounds get deeper, her sorrow deepens
She keeps getting weaker from her demons
She hides behind a smile, behind broken feelings
Until her weeping turns into eternal dreaming
She is gone, but a stain remains
Upon the floor lies her broken chains
Alone in the doorway he mirrors her pain
Blood drips again in this world of stains
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Author:
P.X. Vexxus (
Offline) - Published: July 10th, 2017 23:11
- Comment from author about the poem: Stains [August 16, 2016] Describes the mask the depressed can wear, the affect it has on that person, and the people around them.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments1
A facade is a defense mechanism. Masks protect us from many things, but from behind them we have difficulty realizing the pain of others. A double edged sword. It leaves its stains, for sure. Good stuff.
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