Disgustingdisgustingdisgusting!
Never ending mantra
Every time you look in the mirror
Stupidstupidstupid!
Never ending mantra
Every time you do something wrong
Worthlessworthlessworthless!
Never ending mantra
Every time you are ignored
Patheticpatheticpathetic!
Never ending mantra
Everytime you cry
Hurthurthurt!
Never ending mantra
Every time you slice into your own skin
Forgetforgetforget!
Never ending mantra
Every time you down a pint of Fireball
Feelsomethingfeelsomethingfeelsomething!
Never ending mantra
Every time you take another line
Lovemelovemeloveme!
Never ending mantra
Every time you sleep with someone new
Yourfaultyourfaultyourfault!
Never ending mantra
Every time something goes wrong
Fatassfatassfatass!
Never ending mantra
Every time you take another bite
Keepquietkeepquietkeepquiet!
Never ending mantra
Every time you have something to say
Isolateyourselfisolateyourselfisolateyourself!
Never ending mantra
Every time you start to get close
Lielielie
Never ending mantra
Every time someone asks if you’re fine
Overdoseoverdoseoverdose!
Never ending mantra
Every time you take an Advil
Uselessuselessuseless!
Never ending mantra
Every time you are unable to do something
Killyourselfkillyourselfkillyourself!
Never ending mantra
Every time you breathe
About the Creator
Kaitlyn Ford
A young Canadian girl with a lot to say. I want my voice to be heard.
Keep reading
More stories from Kaitlyn Ford and writers in Poets and other communities.
Another Nail
On May 26, 2014, I lost my grandfather due to fluid in his lungs caused by cigarettes. Fast forward a few months to August 2014. In a desperate attempt to feel closer to my grandfather, I smoked my first cigarette. Fast forward four years...it’s 2018 and I haven’t put these things down yet. This is a poem I wrote to my grandfather, to explain why I became so addicted to the thing that took him away.
By Kaitlyn Ford6 years ago in Poets
Tortured Soul
The soul careened blindly through a void where it scraped against the walls of a narrow tunnel, amassing a cumulative friction that created all the heat the devil would ever need to torment it. There was no light at the end, not even a fire. From the bottom a cold wind blew, and the clash of extremities spawned vapors of terror in the deadened and numbed appendage that was this strange, delirious, drunken consciousness.
By C. Rommial Butler7 days ago in Fiction
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