Psyke.org

Jo

Blade

Copyright Jo

The blood runs thick, trickles slow, pain drifts quickly, I’m yet to know,
See my reflection in the ice cold blade, use my past to build my future barricade,
Stare from the left, the blood still dripping, inside my heart, what’s worth living,
The pain not felt from the pressure deep, i cant turn the light, i don’t want to sleep
Scared to see what my mind creates, and when my eyes fall shut, what awaits
A blood soaked arm, inside my sleeve, i try to turn, desperate to leave,
The body that’s mine, made by mam, all destroyed after hours of fun,
I laugh at the poem i have just created, you sat you stared you listened you waited
For me to be normal as normal can be, criticised to everyone but not to me,
I’m stupid to think that no one cares, when i look at you, i see no glares,
I see a person standing tall, yet again, waiting out for me to call,
I’ve heard that before, that last line, Ow well who cares you’re here to be mine.
You could save me now, from this poem gone wrong, I live to tell live to long
For everything normal as normal can be, but I think i forget that now I can see.

Untitled

Copyright Jo

Lie, experience the unexperienced. Rest, relax, recoup. Relax ironic. Not to be done. Look up west at the rising sun. Your too late, just you wait. Tonight, tonight. Awareness of controversial arumentation occurs within your mind. confused again, you act. Turn the light on. Not to look back, you want to cry, inside so biased, Not to die. You look at the stars above, Read the note you left for the loved. You made it. You’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn. To cry blood.

 

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