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Literature Text
That person in the mirror...
Is that really me?...
I know I could never hope to be him,
Though he's all I ever want to be.
I'll never be like them,
No matter how hard I try,
And the only way that I'll improve
Is after I have withered and died.
I hate the scars upon my skin
The knife is red with self-abuse.
I think its time I tied the rope,
Kicked the chair and let fall the noose.
Is that really me?...
I know I could never hope to be him,
Though he's all I ever want to be.
I'll never be like them,
No matter how hard I try,
And the only way that I'll improve
Is after I have withered and died.
I hate the scars upon my skin
The knife is red with self-abuse.
I think its time I tied the rope,
Kicked the chair and let fall the noose.
We've all had days like this... right?...
A by-product of collaborative project with
A by-product of collaborative project with
© 2011 - 2024 ZayTheMagnificent
Comments215
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I think we've all had these days, but we've also had those days, where you look in the mirror, and what you see is something that you're not content with. You see someone (something, rather) that's looking back at you, with blank, cold, distant eyes, a sense of indifference in their expression. Numb to what's going on. That's when the question really pops up "Is that really me?"
"Withered and died". Inwardly as much as outwardly.
"The knife is red with self-abuse."-> definitely can be used both symbolically but also very literally.
A fantastic piece, yet again, my friend. Your talent is awe-inspiring. Great job
"Withered and died". Inwardly as much as outwardly.
"The knife is red with self-abuse."-> definitely can be used both symbolically but also very literally.
A fantastic piece, yet again, my friend. Your talent is awe-inspiring. Great job