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Poor Little Sad Girl
November 20, 2014
It couldn't be more dark in here.
Only Satan himself can bribe my ear.
The walls bleed red,
the doors plead with regret,
and the music box sobs out in beautiful silhouettes.
The finishing diminishes,
the rooms hollow out,
and the memories that once existed do not now.
© Courtney C., Palm Coast, FL
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I wanted to write this poem that in my eyes is very close to home, but also can be percieved by others how they wish. I hope this piece gives others the comfort of knowing they aren't alone in suffering. Writing is my outlet. My life is a constant blur. A depressing, sad blur. I often question my sanity.. my worth. Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, suicidal ideation, self harm, drugs and alcohol... I'm dealing with them trying to stay strong.