Dead Soul

Trigger warning: Poem depicts imagery about self-harm and suicide.

My stomach is empty

Acid is rising up my throat

Causing my emotions to spill out

Ruining my tattered clothes


My wrist sears in pain

It is painted with self-inflicted cuts

These have pierced my veins

Causing soundless screams

To escape

In the form of seeping blood blots


It feels like my ragged breaths

Struggle in vain

The vomit stench overloads my senses

As the rooms spins

I realise

I’m viewing it all as an outsider

And my dead soul drifts thither.

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