Bone squeezing through flesh
And bloody feathers protruding,
From your perfect back
Your face held in an ugly grimace
As sweat and tears mix
Your perfect skin scraped and bruised
Your blood drips down in puddles beneath your form
As the tears in your flesh rips bigger than before
And your perfect body looks bloody and mended
Who would have thought
An angels turning
Would hurt so much
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Author:
Mr. Not (
Offline) - Published: January 23rd, 2023 06:35
- Comment from author about the poem: A friend of mine recently took their life, and this poem is for them. May their life not be forgotten and I hope their pain is ripped away from them in heaven.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 11
Offline)
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