My Fault
I fake this Smile,
I have for a while,
But if you're happy,
Then I will be fine,
I'll sit here with a blade at my wrist,
Watchung the blood fall from my fist,
I gave you my heart,
It's yours until it stops,
You are always on my mind,
Until the day it forgets,
You have my soul,
But there is no until,
For my soul is eternal,
Now I slowly die,
So please don't cry,
Because this will be at my own hand,
I hope you will understand.
👁 1💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.