Finished

| October 22, 2014 | 3 Comments
 
I feel it in my bones.
My crippled mind falls
As we walk this damned road.
Do you really think I care?
Are you really that stupid?
How many times do I have to tell you?
How many times must we go through this?
I do not love you
Not any more.
You ripped my fragile heart out
And slammed it to the floor.
You slit my wrists
And chained me to the wall.
You beat me to death
So no, I don’t love you at all.
Why do you do this?
Why must I be your obsession?
I am nothing, not even pretty
Yet you still cause this depression.
You’re killing me,
Why can’t you see this?
Depressed is what I’ve become,
Now I’m standing up, and balling my fists
I’ll take my heart and lock it up
Somewhere it can not be found.
I’ll slit my wrists and hide the pain
And bleed until I drown.
I’ll rid you of your best obsession
And kill myself before you
I may never escape this depression
But at least I’ll be away from you.
Please don’t say you want me back,
For I am just a ghost.
Don’t you dare cry on my grave,
Or else I will haunt your soul.
 

Category: Creative Writing, Features, Poetry, Short Story

About the Author ()

Hi! I'm the Editor and Chief of the Yearbook and the Bradley Growl. I LOVE Panic! At The Disco, Paramore, Fall Out Boy, and Nirvana. I am a wolf. Yea, a wolf, like those emo kids with tails you see around town? That's me! I reccomend that you don't judge me, I'd appreciate it to thanks. My name is Erica Lerma but you can call me Mal. (M~aa~l) So yea, that's me. ~Mal

Comments (3)

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  1. Graham G. says:

    I like the poetry. The formatting near the bottom is not visually appealing (was that purposeful?) It is also a bit short, with only 211 words, therefore missing 33% of the minimum number of words (300.)

    You also might want to correct your profile, “Editor and Chief”.

  2. Mr.Dave says:

    wow… this was just wow… and depressing but really good poetry. Still has a little bit of error but still pretty amazing.

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