Not yours (Part 1)

Years of fighting,
still not enough.
Nights spend bleeding,
this life’s tough.

Demons in these minds,
tearing us apart.
People are watching,
thinking it’s art.

Pain’s not fascinating
despite words of charm.
These bruises not pretty,
just hell’s way of harm.

Don’t turn away,
when darkness appears,
these are our lives,
these are our fears.

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About thetasteofwrittenwords

Ema. Twenty-something. Panromantic asexual. University student, artist and writer. Proud feminist. View all posts by thetasteofwrittenwords

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