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Colleen

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Copyright Colleen

Another crimson story
Another ugly scar
To much to take it all back
For I’ve gone way to far,
I loved the ones I hated
and Hate the ones I love
for all this I will suffer
because I cannot get enough,
I love the shining razor
against my pale skin
It lets go of every evil thing
thats trapped so deep within,
I love the dripping liquid
running down my slashed up arm
I hate the way I love it
But how I love this evil harm.

Who Am I?

Copyright, Colleen

who am i? what is my pourpous?
il’l tell you who i a, im a wanabe
my pourpous is to die
you want to see everythimg about me
but all you can see is the scars
all i can feel is the hurt,
the pain, the anger
do you want to be me?
no? i didnt think so.

Wanabe
What am i?
A wanabe thats all
Nothing else,
ALWAYS a wanabe.
Be yourself,
Everyone said.
They lied I’m a wanabe!

Perfect

Copyright, Colleen

She walks down the hall
Fake smile plastered on her face
Admiring eyes following her every move
They all want to be just like her
With her perfect family
Perfect friends
Perfect life
But they will never know
What lies beneath
Those perfect long sleeves
Of her perfect red shirt
The blood still drips down her wrist
For her last use of the hall pass

So as she walks down the hall
Fake smile plastered upon her face
Her eyes well up with tears
Because she knows
That they will never understand
That the perfect girl they see
Never really existed
And never ever will

 

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