BrOkEN

Fri, 08/25/2017 - 16:26 -- Glew

I wish i could erase it all.

The touch of your skin.

The smell of your cheap cologne.

The aftertaste of the alcohol

slithering off my toungue.

I wishh I could erase all the 

invisible prints you left on my boby.

All the scars neither you nor I,

nor fucking scar strips can erase.

I wish I could take back the I love you's

because even though I wanted to,

I never loved you.

You were a drug and

addiction to the pain people caused.

And I was your blunt, 

the package to your high.

The bullet to your gun.

I was the wrist that you cut on

the bed that you slept on.

Your company when you felt alone.

I was everything you needed and 

everything you wanted.

But you.

 

You were the reason

my blue skies

turned into

soaking wet lies

full of black and pink smoke.

The reason that suddenly the

essence of time had it's hands wrapped around my throat.

The reason that somehow pain and hope

were the same.

You lied.

Suddenly isolation was key

and the only one

who got pain

was me.

STOP.

Yeah. I hate me and I hate us.

I hate this.

And I hate trust.

I hate everything.

 

When life gets too hard to stand they say kneel 

but when your knees are too broken

and scabbed over

from begging for mercy form

someone you shouldn't have to beg from,

all you can do is fall.

Flat.

and hard.

and heavy.

I have beds full of

poetry about you

and walls covered in 

dripping black words

about my dad.

So yeah pain fucking sucks.

pain is always fucking there.

so get the fuck over it.

Because pain is fucking

inevitable!

 

I am standing neck deep in

dehydrated water 

suffocating from shots of hunger.

See I learned something.

Where there's hurt there

isn't hope theres just

more pain.

I'm stuck in barricading walls

of blank.

I can't fix the world.

         I can't fix you.

                  I can't fix my dad.

                                            I can't even fix

                                                myself.

This poem is about: 
My family
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741