Beat me, choke me, make me bleed. Hit me, spit on me, make me cry. I'm past caring. I'm past trying. I'm past trying to be who you want me to be. I'm past dealing with you. You pull me down. You are meant to light me up. You are meant to be my biggest supporter. Yet you're too busy putting me down. You're to busy trying to please everyone else. You sit there watching me bleed, watching me slowly fade, and you do nothing.
You let me go. You moved on. You past me in the street and you avert your eyes. You know you're slowly losing me, and you do nothing. You're letting your inner child die. You are killing yourself. And I can't even cut you out... no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I bleed, cause you are in my head, you are in my heart, you are in my soul. You are me. You are the picture in the mirror. The photo I stare at everyday not recognising you anymore. And there's nothing I can do.
YOU ARE READING
From The Minds of The Closeted
Randomthis is a book that has many different things in it it may range from poems to short stories to diary style entries. if you get triggered easily i would advise against reading this book.
