Pain

I hear it in my brain
That drives me insane
Everything I write is lame
My poetry is fake as Pain

Everything I want is just a thought
Kindergarten we were taught
We could do anything if we tried
Well I realized they lied

If you want it
You can get it
Then regret it
Continue to miss it
Forget it
Bury it
And be killed by it

You have a tension in your wrist
The skin, oh if so is missed
By the slow slice of the blade
Each scar made, is a price paid