Стихи и рассказы из категории hurt

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I leave
but you still follow
I hid;
but you still find me
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Tethered heart,
thorns in deep...
Leaving marks,
my insecurities creep...
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It will not hurt me when I am old,
A running tide where moonlight
Will not sting me like silver snakes;
The years will make me sad and cold,
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Hurt no living thing:
Ladybird, nor butterfly,
Nor moth with dusty wing,
Nor cricket chirping cheerily,
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Healed of my hurt,
I laud the inhuman Sea—Yea, bless the Angels Four that there convene;
For healed I am even by the pitiless breath Distilled in wholesome dew named rosmarine
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'If my head hurt a hair's
Pack back the downed bone
If the unpricked ball of my
Bump on a spout let the bubbles jump out
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What would you do if you didn't want to feel?What would you try?
Would you try Drugs?
Would you try to laugh more?
Would you want to Die?
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