broken girl – Page 5 – a poet's confessional

old habits die hard

it takes a lot of courage to admit thisthe fact that i still want my blood painting a shower wallbecause i once said physical pain was better than the alternativethat statement still holds truei understand that it is an addiction to a toxic relationshipand i shall never return to itbut it still haunts me, callsContinue reading “old habits die hard”

tomb

you told me that we had been through so muchi am sick of going through grief and angerover and over againyou’re part of the reason why this is a cycle ever turningso don’t tell me facts i already knowjust let the world give me peaceand let me be finished

i will take what i want

i am tiredof giving and givingwith nothing in returnuntil my rage boils into somethingeven you won’t enjoy

i am broken, full of lightning strikes and poisonous rose thorns

all are so much more beautiful than i thin and lithe tan and wide eyed just enough skin to tempt but enough coverage to gain impeccable and full of sunshine and delicate flowers i am none of those

headache

i tell myself to not let my emotions weaken me but here i am alone in a bed, weeping in a quiet room as those emotions consume me

red eyes

i know that it is love when it hurts this much

goodbye

i will always fight a bitter fight between me, myself, and i where i want to tear my flesh from my bones and tear my brain and cast it away i understand reality and yet deny it all the same

my old torments greet me kindly

foolish girl who thought this was going to be easier you were wrong

i pluck, i pull, i curse, i weep

i am not sure if i will ever be comfortable in these bones no matter what the world says or the words of those who love me i see the at my skin and snarl at the folds too soft this body is i feel the itch at my skin and wish to slice offContinue reading “i pluck, i pull, i curse, i weep”

why do i have to debate every action, every word, like it is life and death?

i wish my stupid brain would stop and just let me fucking speak