Not Good Enough

(A mix between a poem, and how I actually feel.)


Fresh posion,
Fresh opinionated faces.

The hatred sways so easily through what seems to be such thick air.

Tears start to fall like a stream from the side of a mountain top.
Fingers linger upon the deadliest tool of agony.

The razor sits, waiting.
It knows just as well, that it will be used again.

Worshipped,
it's sharp blade used for only glory.

The world caves in so slowly.

Chest tightens,
Lungs collapse,
Throat closes,
Face turns blue,
Life slips away,
Blood trickles from the wrists..

A new day,
Repeat.

You can pretend that you are okay, but you aren't.

The sparkle in your eye has faded,
The smile no longer there.

You cry yourself to sleep.
You wish for those whom don't deserve you to come back.

You're just sinking yourself.
Because you are,
..your own worst enemy.