sobriety conceals secrets.

                A shatter of hope, being gulped down like swelling ice cubes.
                    Stomach acid secreting each sliver, hope by tiny hope.
            Vanished into foreign air, transparent in the hollow atmosphere.
There’s no such thing as courage no more, excuse my grammar but it should no longer matter.
                    Can they hear the sharp cracks of my once solid heart?
        Do they know the decaying passage ways through my deformed brain?
                    How about know the ever so slightly words I say?
                                The words I dare to speak?
The girl inside me, the one who feeds on escape, her phantom fangs pierce me with                                                 temptation.
                        A rush of ambition chokes the truth out…
                ”Do it! Just do it now! End it for me, just FUCKING kill me!”




Tagged as: Depression. Lost hope. Misery. Poetry. Spilled Ink. Suicide. Personal.
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