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by GloW
Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1594873
A short dark poem written when I was just 14 years old.
Walking into the mysterious darkness
That no one here can see.
Walking in with open arms
Some call it insanity.
Loneliness holds the knife
From which I bleed
And scars me carelessly
Laughing at my pleas.
Though I hold him captive
Inside of me everyday
He is the murderer
And I am his prey
With each tear that forms
A puddle on the floor
Another drop of blood is shed
To join the thousands more.
(age 14)
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1594873-LIFES-SOLITAIRE