Bloody storm

*Adults kill dreams more than anyone else
it's like they feast on teenage weakness

*Don't even wanna bring up this discussion
tired of feeling like that,tired of depression

*laying in bed for hours,thinking of suscide
it's not the fear of death,it's what if i failed don't wanna be dramatized

*Cutting does'nt specify your level of this hopeless game
i don't try cause i know i don't have enough room for all the pain

*Flowers on my hair,demons in my head
i take back every happy thing i ever said 

*Surprised? choked? what for
maybe i should've showed this side of me before

*But kept my secrets in a safehouse
kept the whole world out

*So don't bring your ''huh?'' face to the crime scene 
it's always been like that,it's just never been seen

*Did'nt wanna sound complaining,thought no one would care
didn't actually try finding someone,heard it's cruel out there

*And cruel it was,glad i did'nt regret anything 
but not so glad no one knows how i think

*Always been the hyper active funny girl,in their sights
wish i can delete that image entirely out of heads , out of life

*only thing i can do to hold on is write, and express my feelings a bit
but will anyone even read it 

*Loliness is addicting and slightly harmfull
once you see how much it's reliefing you dont wanna deal with people

*That's what am going through right now, I dissappear they think am out of my sanity
but it's always been like that it's my personality

*came to a conclusion that a fake smile is worse than its reason
they see you happy,they think you don't need a shoulder to lean in 
              
*I don't really need saving am my own hero in a princess form
but i wish they knew the rainbowns i show out were after a bloody storm

Bloody storm

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related entries

Because Angels Are In White…

The poem is on Doctors who were heroes to us in the time of Covid-19

The Book is Being Written

How we observe and how we reflect.

The Dreary Faceless

The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.

The Model House

The facades of a perfect home.

The Woman Who

This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.