A scream pierces the room, yet my lips remain shut.
Eyes fill with tears, though they never fall.
My chest tearing itself open but there are no scars, no blood shed.
I remain still, silent.
On the surface I am content, calm. At peace.
Yet, it is beneath the skin and sinew,
The muscles and bones.
Behind my ribs, in the ripped apart pieces of my bleeding heart,
This is where the true, bitter pain lies.
Where the unspoken things burrow, creating doubt.
Thoughts and memories.
Poisonous silence invades my sickly body.
A drug taken, as mindless as breathing air.
Pain emerges from the distance I've created.
Help is not needed, not wanted.
Toxicity flows through my veins, creeping ever so slowly to the mound of flesh that was once my strong beating heart.
So many words in the English language, but not one spoken.
Pained silence becomes me.
About the Creator
π. π. π‘πΎπ«π
An up-and-coming author with a love of anything dark...
My favorite genres are dark romance, psychological thrillers and murder mysteries!
Find out more and read my first of many novels "Broken Evil" here: https://linktr.ee/h.c.ruby
Keep reading
More stories from π. π. π‘πΎπ«π and writers in Poets and other communities.
You're My Favorite Murderer (Chapters 10-12)
Chapter 10: ππ΅π’ππ¬π¦π³ ππ°πΊ It's only been a handful of months since we've crossed paths but seeing her, even just the back of her; those dark waves save for her silver streak, arises too many emotions. The most prominent being hate. Pure hatred for this fucking woman. The way she burrowed her way into my skin, into my very fucking soul and tore it apart with her red-marbled blade. Passion, anger and pain are among some of the others but hate overshadows them all hands down.
By π. π. π‘πΎπ«π8 months ago in Fiction
Affection and Healing for Yourself
During the night of the last quarter moon, I gathered my ritual supplies. I carefully handled the chunk of black tourmaline that would protect me from your overall negative and narcissistic energy. I carefully walked the house with my stick of selenite in hand, asking the universe to cleanse our working space.
By Alisha Wilkins βοΈπ¦ποΈ5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Gosh this hit me so hard because this is how I've been feeling for the past few days. I hope you're doing okay. Sending you lots of love and hugs β€οΈ
ooooooo, the intensity of this is suffocating in the best way possible!! The edginess of it, as though the narrator is silent without it being their choice is so compelling! Love this HC!!
This description of internal pain is intense. I've been in situations where words fail, and the struggle to keep it together inside is real. It hits close to home.