i've been bleeding forever
carrying knives at my back
"get back on the track," they say.
"the small cuts do not matter"
it's the meaningless clutter
this tiny neighborhood sings
been years since, yet they still sing
"the small cuts do not matter"
they still sting, oh! yes they sting
will they ever hear my cry
it's not a surprise that
the small cuts do not matter
it drips before it scatters
i find the bandages but
it bleeds through and they still say
the small cuts do not matter
the small cuts do not matter
they do not matter at all
the small cuts do not matter
did i matter at all?
YOU ARE READING
the far side | poetry
Poetrydon't know what is wrong with me i feel gone i'm so reckless - a collection of poetry from the perspective of a madman
