PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Dead Like Me


 

Torturous blood would be welcome in my veins

Hearts filled with agonizing wounds

Instead, there’s nothing -

Selfish emptiness took away my feeling

Incidents have occurred - I’ve been close to that 


Sleep of Death, enough to drink its sorrows,

Not even stirring in my numbness

Till I was convinced I had stopped

Living. 


I now know the

Vicious truth –


I would much rather


Not living than feelin


G nothing at all.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

LivingIntheMiddle17

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (1)

LivingIntheMiddle17
<p>Living is the worst Hell inside your head.&nbsp;</p>

Log in to leave a comment.