I sit in my bed, waiting,
As nighttime calls my name.
I no longer know what to do,
I no longer know what to say.
Tears blur my vision,
A blade trembling in my grasp,
Etching verses upon my wrist—
My story writes itself anew,
Like poetry carved in skin—
A hushed lament,
A whispered ache.
A nightmare in the make.
My arms conceal unspoken truths,
My smile shields silent pain.
My eyes hollow.
My voice muted.
For night calls my name.
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Author:
Violet_Writes (
Offline) - Published: July 31st, 2025 13:02
- Comment from author about the poem: A venting poem maybe not sure.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: peto
Offline)
Comments3
Scars tell a story a history a poem of life. Nicely written where emotion is expressed.
A haunting write write of pain being released by self harming, nicely expressed and written
Brilliant write on a harrowing subject
"As night time calls my name" 8s a great line
And the 2nd verse is stunning
I truly look forward to reading more though I do hope your art stays on paper
Very impressive
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