Lost


Beaten to a bloody pulp
By a disease that won’t let me heal
From the past that caused this pain
And the blood feels nice
Against my skin
When only it will stay
Do you think I enjoy
Hating myself?
Do you think that I smile
At the sight of these scars?
Release and relief
Are far from pleasure
And I just don’t smile
All that much
Anymore
And every day, I pray
That you’ll save me from myself
And every night I dream
Of remembering how love feels

Back to My Poetry
Home