I would fall to sharp, jagged pieces
my porcelain heart cannot handle this.
and why are you so selfish?
another poem wasted on you...
I have scratched my palms until they bled
just to focus on another pain
than the throbbing in my chest,
the chest that served as my worth.
tell me now, now that it's over
was I ever worth it?
why am I not worth shit to you?
-
Author:
⋆♱𝓱𝓪𝔂𝓵𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱♱⋆ (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 22nd, 2025 18:24
- Comment from author about the poem: men really, really suck
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 7
Offline)
Comments2
A feeling in this poem that we all have time to time. The question could be what is wrong with you that you don't see the good in me? Nicely written
A sense of anger at men but maybe life as well, that you cant be seen as you are, nicely expressed and written
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