Sometimes I write about sadness
Though it doesn’t mean I’m sad
At times I write about happiness
But it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m glad.
And then I write about heart aches
Of how the heart can bleed
It’s not entirely my own
I just let my pen lead.
And so the emotions pour
While I continue to write along.
Just because you don’t see, doesn’t mean I don’t bleed
Just because I smile, doesn’t mean I’m fine
I’m covered with insecurities and every single day is a fight to stay alive
This knife, this invisible knife, it cuts deep and everyday I struggle to breathe.
She curled up like a ball
Didn’t care of the world at all.
It hurt and made her cranky
Anxious and often angry.
She also gets so moody
All because it’s the time of month to be bloody.
Her cravings grow stronger
She can’t fight it any longer.
Chocolate is her comfort
It eases the discomfort.
She massages her aching abdomen to ease the pain
And wishes she could just stay in bed all day again.
Red were my eyes because I chose to leave
I left because you needed me but didn’t want me.
Red was the sky, crying just like I
I left because I had to.
I needed to be me
To be free
From the faults and false of you.
Red was my heart, bleeding,