I am two mes. Two sides to one brain. My mind is a battleground, logical and real me. They completely take over, but are good at turns, for they don’t overlap, just quickly switch turns.
I rely on my blades to take pain away. As the quick motion stings and blood drips from my veins, I breathe my first breath and I feel like I’m free. One turns to two, two turns to three. I don’t care who sees, I can finally breathe.
But release becomes shame as the blood wipes away and logical kicks in while my scars remain. I clear my tears and pull down my sleeves, “what have I done? Who have I become?”
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Author:
Darthvisa (
Offline) - Published: December 4th, 2017 19:14
- Comment from author about the poem: Sorry about the bad grammar etc. This is my first time writing a poem, ik it’s not great, I just wanted to try and get my thoughts out. I appreciate any feedback! And I have no idea what to call it. Any suggestions?
- Category: Sad
- Views: 12
- User favorite of this poem: Darthvisa.
Offline)
Comments1
That’s okay! Bad grammar is common for new writers. I suggest reading it out loud first, just to see if that’s really what you want to say. But in the end, poetry is human. Humans mess up sometimes. It’s perfectly imperfect.
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