Your room smells like blood
Salty and metallic
I can never see it
No matter how many times
I ask.
I know I’m being pushy,
But what do you expect?
Your scars are the only thing
That keeps me here.
I want to kill me and you.
The witnesses, too.
End both our pain
With a final trigger.
Lock the door.
Shut the blinds.
Ease our minds.
I get the gear
And walk in.
You’re doing my job for me.
No.
What have I done?
I made you this way
Ironic, a pun.
Shoot the gun
With a gun.
The warm embrace
A sunny place
Just another reason
To finish the job.
-
Author:
Screaming goat (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 15th, 2022 09:09
- Comment from author about the poem: idek lol
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
Offline)
Comments1
Wow this was a desolate poem. Lovely job though! I appreciate your frankness and the sense of despair that seeps through our minds from time to time. 💕👏
Thanks so much! I made this during a panic attack lol
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