Jacob Biehl (2/1/96' / cincinnati)
Everything bugs me, every thing reminds me,
Reminds me of you, of my pain and misery.
Mama help me I've been hurt,
rounds punch me with every burst,
nothing helps me, I can't quench my thirst.
I play mellow and easy going, yet I hide,
Black blood, fangs, and pained agony on the inside.
It burns me, yet it's so cold,
there's no sanity or anything left to hold.
It's as if my soul has been sold.
As though my tale has been written by brothers Grimm,
I fall for one deserving of song and hymn.
Lying in wait have you crept,
then away I was swept,
and yet away still, am I kept.
Broken yet not bitter, I know not how it's done,
I'm still falling and becoming undone.
I fear everyone knows,
and if I don't relieve it, it grows,
under me no longer, my back bows.
Just for you I'm holding my breath.
Holding my breath after my death.
Comments about this poem (Brothers Grimm by Jacob Biehl )
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