PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

my sleeve is now stained in my own fucking blood, it shatters my dreams yet it holds me up, and everyday i fall down head laid in the mud, the only way i escape is by making this cut

dont get me wrong i have tried to stop, listen to every word and everything you you said, but i dont really want my songs to rot, but i cant help staining my sleeve blood red

it helps me escape with my music in tune, it helps me grab hold of what im losing too, and it helps me realise my life will end soon, but how can i let go when im sitting infrount of you?

i cant stop the blood i think i did it too deep, i cant see properly and everything is fading, im happy im going but then i see you weep, you grab hold of my cut and tye it up its my life your saving

but do i really want it to be saved? should i let go or live one more day? should i live out this nightmare life youve paved? should i listen to every word you say?

your crying and holding onto something you are about to lose, i know you know they know it too, yet you do the same with the same knife i use, you throw away everything and you do it too,

instantly you fall i lose you your no more, now i cry my bleeding stops as yours divorces from the body, all i have left is this bloody corspe on the floor, and i cry and leave you and your body

im lost and lonely broken its true, its sad this life and its torture to me, and everytime im so close to leaving i think of you, i think about how your life was meant to be

so i stop i think i sadly grow, so miserable so deep so out of the know, its not me no more no but its not even that, i pick up my pen and i take off my hat, my lines my rymes spew out of my pen, knowing ill never see your smile again, knowing ill grow old and regretting that day, where i was helpless and in my arms you lay...