Broken things

Huge Trigger warning- This talks about my childhood abuse and how it made me suicidal-

Slamming doors, broken glass

Replaying words from the past

Empty bottles, angry hearts

Praying to God, before another nightmare starts

Bloody knuckles, ringing ears

A soft pillow, filled with tears

Bruised skin, Broken door

Slient tears, she cried a little more

Begging prayers, on my knees

I can’t anymore, Lord take this please

In my sweaty palm, i held the pills

 He got what he wanted, he had his fill

They didn’t lie, his words do kill

My friends who love me so, would they care if i didn’t show

I can’t tell them again, they already know

This pain i’m feeling, with the damage to show

This kind of pain that hurts like hell, not a soul i would dare tell

 Do I have to lie again, and say i fell

No one knows my pain, I’m a good liar when i say i’m okay

Maybe it’s my fault, in some messed up way

I don’t know if i can make it one more day

I know he drank too much, but why i do have to pay

I’ll try to sleep, even when he cut me deep

I’ll leave it God to fix these things

Seas of black, rip my wings

I guess we all have broken things