If anyone of you will listen
To what I’m about to say,
Please understand this hurt that I feel,
And how I got this way.
Left behind all alone in this debris,
Wedged between walls of very thick ice;
I pray that someone hears me,
Friend, foe, or even Jesus Christ.
What do you see when you look at me?
A smile, a laugh?
A tear, a frown?
A sad young girl none of you knew was falling down?
Just another dead young girl?
You say The Blade is not my friend, Poetry is.
But for how much longer?
Even if Love can save me, you know it won’t last forever.
I wish I could talk to Joy and tell her not to go
But at least one thing is certain:
These scars are my friends and they will never leave.
Who’s excited for the fourth poem in this series? I know I wish I was. Oh well..
New diagnosis. Meds refilled. Head aching. Tired. Need to sleep. Slowly but surely getting there.
I hope you enjoy this one.
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