I feel like I’m bleeding from within,
And it’s seeping through my skin
Stretched over my rib and lung,
Mournfully my head is hung.
And I ache and gasp,
Breathe and try to clasp
Something other than the pain
That whispers down like slow rain.
Why do I hurt? Why I must ask.
In this cycle of endless task.
What’s wrong, what’s wrong?
So long, this song
Of echoing feelings unheard
Unseen, unfound, ushered
Away with the swept-out dust,
Scraped clean from metal rust.
I writhe till cleaned to rind
And twist and yank my bind.
Take blade, sharp and ready
With hand, aim her steady
To the hollow throat of skin
Slit from neck up to chin.
But composure sits outward
My reflection only inward
And so, I feel like fading light
A plant infected with blight.
But truly I am firmly rooted
In the eyes of all fair suited.
And underneath I fester and rot
Till pain will melt every lonely thought.
About the Creator
Laura Lann
I am an author from deep East Texas with a passion for horror and fantasy, often heavily mixed together. In my spare time, when I am not writing, I draw and paint landscape and fantasy pieces. I now reside in Alaska where adventures await.
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