Gentle Reaper

Hate
myself…
Withdraw
from all that I know
Hide
they don’t need to see me any longer
Run
even though I don’t know where I’m going
Find
a corner somewhere…
Draw
on my arm
Drawn
back to God, back to the world I hate
Forced? to sit in a corner somewhere…
Hear
they don’t
Scream
they still don’t
Away
I still don’t know where
Salvaged
my pieces
Together
they try to put them…
Time
it takes so much
Gone
they are, and they still don’t
Hear
I do, though
Heal
slowly, ever so…
Left
all that is, scars
Love
the Cross, myself
Still
love the blood
No
longer have to draw it
Gentleness
has found my pieces.





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