PAIN
I cry too often.
everything feels like a direct hit
everyone's words are a dirct truth
aimed at my every wound.
I have too many holes.
so emptiness eats inside me
a living, breathing, hollow vessel.
exposed to these people.
freinds is wot u call them.
they have this power to see thru,
me, deep down to my defects pointing,
them out with cold, blue highlighters
and i cry-thats wot
i do. and they point.
thats what they do. i
close my eyes in aching wonder.
when will i find the spots
highlighted and exposed
when will i seek them out
and erase the pain they cause.














Comments
i love you and your poems
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