Words are gripping.
My mind is dripping.
Meds forgotten.
My soul is rotten.
Self image has been destroyed.
By his words, I've been paranoid.
Am I as awful as he said?
A war is tugging in my head.
Killed and killed again.
With words for bullets, I wrote them in pen.
Shot too many times,
No wind, but I hear the chimes.
Ringing in my ear,
Like his voice, in which I fear.
Am I damaged beyond repair?
Probably, because life isnt fair.
I look in the mirror and hate what I see.
If I were to jump, would anyone even catch me?
©g.a.p
G