goodbye.
i cut myself today
to see if i still feel
i focus on the pain
the only thing that's real
the knife creates a scar
that old familiar blade
try to scrape it all away
but i remember everything
skin carte blanche on canvas
each stroke tells something new
a new horizon of bruising
i shouldn't reminisce over you
you became someone else
the past contorted in lies
a once innocent heart long past melt
wearing such a fooling disguise
darkness is all consuming
candles nowhere to be found
a soul no longer blooming
a call from the underground
how much longer will this last
my journey into the unknown
a time perpetually decreasing
no longer than several skimming stones throw.
This was the poem I sent with Voiceshares, a Steemit group that allows authors to anonymously share stories of depression. At the time I was not able to publicly speak about this. Now I feel it appropriate to post on my page.
