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When The Pain Drains
I think i am a hedgehog.
My spikes ever prickle
keeping people good or ill away.
Inside blood ever trickle
It trickles down like a tear.
Fearing not death's sickle
Just another fall to pass by.
Unlike those so fickle
A drop to end all pain.
If it shall cripple
For what should i care anymore.
If my pain tripple
Then maybe all would simply numb.
with nothing id grapple
Or perhaps I am a turtle.
Always in my shell
Hidden deep away safe and sad.
No shut in cell
Locked away in my mind's bars.
Why must i tell
The tumult within when words fail.
Can inner panic swell
When there is no emotion within.
Where cold nothingness dwell
Deep within my ever aching chest.
No longer needs repell
i dont want to lose it.
for my identity compell
stripped of it i wouldn't be.
Or perhaps I'm just a girl.
Soft vulnerable and weak
Maybe that's why my heart bleeds.
Though i now leak
And my bleeding heart run dry.
An old door creaks
My heart has no oil left.
After the pains peak
Everything is so empty so colorless.
Now I'm a freak
A freak of emotion and hollowness.
Experiment of hateful technique
I can hardly care of what.
I cease to seek
Color of which has failed me.
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This article has 2 comments.
i would like you to know I don't plan to cry myself to sleep tonight, that would require more tears I don't have as I've spent my allotted amount for a while.
anyone else reading this, sorry, I just had to vent. and I wish slightly younger me could read this
i have no context for whatever that pain is, i have no clue where it came from. i am not depressed or suicidal, despite what my poetry makes me out as. that is a deep, deep, deep, very dark reservoir of my soul wherever that came from. it might be about abuse i cant remember.
and when i am upset i recover quickly and normally. that sounds like a deeply traumatized person talking, i dont think i am.