Sipping from the lethal pipelines
Smoking from the people's lifelines
I ran in circles
I looked for safety
So certain I was;
Somebody might kill, might rape me
It was a town filled with ghouls
It was the City of Gremlins
Lost, jagged souls
Nothing but demons
My voice, so shrill
My voice, like guitar strings bleeding
My choices caused more screeching
I begged for mercy, though I wasn't convinced
I deserved it
Always trying to compromise with my mind
Believed I deserved this curse, I did
In between my prayers
These filthy fantasies, they lived
So confused about what I should do
Safe to say; no fucking clue!
My heart bled until there was nothing left
It was no longer able to
Defeat this emotionally crippling theft;
A fable all about me and you
Welcome to my story,
Ready for the rest?
This is my lovely bio
I call it the Diary of Death
© copyright 2019-2024 Weak Days Lead To Weak Ends
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem