PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Breathing hurts my lungs and blinking hurts my eyes

The truth hurts too much, but there are too many secrets in the lies

Receiving is better than giving, to all the selfish ones, me too,

That's who I am- yet, there’s so much more I want to do

I carry my thoughts in a wooden box- I take them everywhere I go

With all my secrets, my likes, my fears because I don't want anybody to know

Walking hurts my legs and talking hurts my tongue

But with the blade peeling my skin, there's no more hurt- I’m done