FREETHEME
Hello from November 2020, I hope all of you ain't yet extinct from the virus, This year has been sweaty, sweaty, sweaty, Extinction of people by their own hands would be pitiful, And what about me? I'm kinda like nobody, Making up my own problems out of fucking nothing. Ah, I would rip my guts out AN' THEN EAT IT OUT, Yeah, now you're thinking, "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" And I will answer you THAT THIS IS THE FLOW OF MY THOUGHTS, I'm makin' rhymes 'bout my problems, WHERE THERE ARE FUCKING NONE, Now you think I'm either crazy or I JUST WANT ATTENTION. Hold up, I don't fucking cut my veins, THEREFORE I HAVE NO CUTS AND NO BLOOD LÓSS, Mental problems in my brain ARE CAUSIN' BLOOD TO FLOW RIGHT FROM MY NOSE. I'm cold blooded cuz that is my trait, I POUR OUT ALL FEELINGS AS SOON AS I RECEIVE THEM, FOR EXAMPLE, HATE. No resentment in my soul, I don't need this shit, Almost all the words I hear, I do not listen, And why should I? I have my own heavy head on my SHOULDERS, I analyze every step I take, HOLD UP, My critical thinkin' exists and TURNED ON, For some reason my heartbeat isn't makin' A SOUND. In the morning I go to the bathroom, Take out a blade and brush my teeth, I can fill my whole body with tattoos, N' if someone says I look like a prisoner, I'LL BEAT ALL THE SHIT OUT OF HIM. Fuck, the pain doesn't go away I cut the skin, A pool of blood has 'lready formed I'm drowning in, The mind's drownin' in emptiness and the body's in blood I close my eyes my mind goes out of my body and my mind's in the clouds, I'm definitely in paradise, I don't feel any wounds, I wonder if I will remain alone or someone will find my corpse? I ain't remember if I closed the door before I died, But it doesn't matter to me anymore, I'm already a corpse and not alive...
2021-03-07 04:37:13
0
0
Схожі вірші
Всі
Question 1?/Вопрос 1?
The girl that questions everything,is a girl that needs many answers.She wanders the earth trying to find the person that can answer her many queries.Everthing she writes has a hidden question that makes her heart ache and her head hurt.She spends days writing sad story's that she forgets her sad life.Shes in a painful story that never ends,she's in a story that writes itself.The pages in the book were filled ever so easy,because her heart wrote it for her.She spent her life being afraid,that's what made it so boring.Finding her passion was easy,but fulfilling it was the hardest part of all.Her writing may be boring and sad,but it's what keeps her sane. "She had all the questions in the word,and he had all the answers." Lillian xx
45
8
3670
Приходи (RU-UA)
Черничные пироги, молоко с мёдом. Приходи. Почитаю тебе стихи и раны замажу йодом. Буду исцелять поэтапно все твои трещинки и порезы, даже в твоё заледеневшее сердце, поверь мне, — смело полезу. Повір! Залізу без страху. Без жалю, не боячись. Бо наше розпалене вогнище змушує бути хоч чимось. І тільки не хвилюйся — ми не розчинимось. Ні одне у одному, ні у часі. Мы снова столкнёмся, неспособные противостоять этой связи. Истощенные, но в друг друге, нашедшие дом. Якщо не перше життя, то і не перший том. Не перший різновид мов у моїх віршах. Не найдёшь меня в жизни? Отыщешь во снах. За той дверью, где я нам в пирог добавляю чернику. Приходи. Мне одной без тебя здесь ужасно дико.
42
3
1103