Ripping Apart At The Flesh

It's a dark poem about what I'm feeling at this particular moment.

An enraged soul deep inside its sorrow,

It bleeds out the screams it holds inside.

The depth of its despair is large and nightmarish,

Holding the secrets deep within,

Telling not a soul of it's hearts reaping desires.

It lays beneath the surface of the skin,

Needing to break the barriers of what it holds.

It lusts after thirsty razors,

Waiting to cut the only living thing that holds it to this world.

It screams with rage inside,

Pulling apart every organ and bone, painfully.

In silence, it forever is enraged.

Author's Note

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