I want to cry out, but my heart will not open.
Begging for the tears to flow, true feelings unspoken.
Terrified of the darkness in my heart, yet too afraid to let my emotions spark—start a fire.
The symmetry of my tears stain my cheeks, from whence I did last pathetically weep.
My self pity is no more—I deflower my flesh, peppering it with scars—wounded Morse code, self love lighting up the scars—it is really hate.
I no longer beg for the shower water to burn me back to hell.
Instead I let it grow cold, my feelings swell—I am smiling in the glass.
I want to cry out, but my heart will not open—So, for now, I will stay silent, until the steel that has forged and healed, trained my will, has finally broken.
About the Creator
Lindsey McNair
I am a aspiring creative writer/author, mostly interested in High Fantasy. I am currently working on my first book, and I am so excited! In the mean time, I am planning on publishing small poems and/or short stories I have made.
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