Make It Hurt

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Im in so much pain of my broken heart that was already broken he makes it hurt worse

Submitted: January 26, 2014

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Submitted: January 26, 2014



Make it Hurt Bloodied and burnt, The soul carried on, Crooked and stern, All complexities gone.

Why look so glum? This is what you wanted. This beat that you drum, Is melancholy and dented.

Why do we like this flame, Because it can kill, We ask for our sorrows, Let someone else pay sorrow's bill.

What are we without pity? A shell in refuse. In this abandoned city, Pain is the only excuse.

Excuse your pain, And we'll accept you. Don't act so vain, Make it hurt and we'll continue.

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