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

Is She Me?


Why not 
Like a battle
Field I fight
Myself

Shes brought
Knifes to my
Swallowed 
Wrists 

Tied them 
From her
Neck to 
A pole

 

Truth she
Feel's
Depressed
Inside

Somedays 
I don't feel
Alive

Is dead the word? 

Shes dug my
Nails into her
Crimson skin
Of nails and 
Steel

Why not come
To her conclusion?

But in reality she
Just feels like
Crying 

Look at her
Eyes as
past 
The smirk 
Of a smile

You think she's 
Happy but I've
Only been 
Parading 

Flames and knifes
And cloth and 
nails dug
Into her crimson 
Skin

Blood doesn't 
Scare this child

Why because 
They make me
Cry

Bruises now 
Scars later
Tears of black

 
Black tiny 
Notebook 
Unknown 
To the public

She feels it in
My bones the
Darkness the 
Light 

The shadows at
Night

Like her heart is soaring
Into floods of blood 

Tears of black
Hair of red
Bruises of purple

Am I human or
Nothing but a
Object of force

She's me and only me
Her story her lines are 
Mine

Why say anything? 
When no one sees
So stay silent, keep
Straight and don't
Throw up your last 
Remains
 
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Lexi Cornelia Diaz Villanueva

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 (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.