deepundergroundpoetry.com

I want to be the new Edna St. Vincent Millay.

Instead of cutting my wrists,
I'd like to write a poem.

A poem so alluring and divine yet so real and intense.

I want the reader to feel my pain. To feel like it happened to them, too.

But I can't get all the feelings out. They're stuck to my insides, refusing to leave. So I cut exits into my wrists. I hope that they'll leave once they're ready.
Written by notapoetbutapoem
Published
Author's Note
This is not the best poem as I wrote it within 10 minutes but I needed to get my feelings out.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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