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Image for the poem Bod

Bod


Spill, it does from
my pores
Deep, darkened gore

The blood
it
bleeds

All I know is pain



Slip, I do into
sleep
Unconsciousness, creeps

Deep red, Burgundy
drips from my lips

A taste in which I cannot
bare.. (but I must)
this isn't fair

I can never get away from this



Stripped of my pride
No longer can I hide

Overwhelming mental misery
Stricken with decaying agony
My body is my enemy
She kills me

She is surely
the death
of me

Complete and utter madness



"Dear God,
Did You really have this planned for me?
Is this my price and penalty?
Am I reaping what I sow?
How does one know?"



I'm dying a daily death so slow
I have nothing to really show
I have no where to go
Those who suffer with me know

'Coup de grâce' , my claim to fame



She doesn't even care,
She kills me

Suffice it to say
I wake up everyday,
to the thought of
simply going with the flow


'Y.O.L.O' - a mindset I'm trying to maintain
Written by Jordanne (RubixCube)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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