Army of the Dead

Nasty
Selfish
Cruel

Words and words
Twisting round in my head
Will they still be there
When I am dead?

"Get out," she tells me,
"Don't hide away
In a supportive atmosphere.
Go battle today."

Battle with the conforming crowd
Battle with the rude and loud
Battle with my head
That wishes for its bed.

Judgemental
Bitter
Sick

"Don't stop talking
Just stop talking about
What we don't want to hear
Just stop."

Stop it all, stop it all,
How can you be so cruel?
Your words are hurting us
Your thoughts are hurting us.

"We don't deserve to be hurt
We don't deserve the wake-up call
We don't want to know
We are hiding."

"But you!
You are not allowed to hide.
You must face us.
The army of the dead."

Like vampires,
Hurting me to make me one of them.

Sinking their fangs into my neck,
Watch the blood,
Black,
Run down my fingers.

On the ground.

"Your soul is burning,
You do this to yourself."

I want to feel better
But I cannot stop,
I can still love.

I live in hope.

Cuddle my blackened soul,
Sooth my burns,
I do this to myself you know,
It's always someone's fault.

Only mine.
No one else.

I appreciate your cooling hands.
More than you know.

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed