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No Limits

A Poem

By H.b. WoodsPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
1

I’ve been passing through doors,

All of my life

Nothing was forever

but Temporary homes

of a carving knife

Blade slivered, down my leg

When it became, real Divine

self inflicted trauma

turmoil by the deadline

concerned desire to spin the revolver

aim all the way through

including the spine

in the darkest of days

imaginations will decline

what does all that matter

the world is all a shrine

phenomenon of this shattered ugly body

this is just a sign

childhood is a guideline

my soul is at war with the central key

my mind is critically confined

I just want to be set free

The pain is staggering along

Although I can still feel the scars

The cuts are so far beyond

The sun, the moon, and the stars

anonymous

sad poetry
1

About the Creator

H.b. Woods

I am a mental health warrior; I battle it daily. I’m a mom to 5, a wife, a daughter, and a friend. Some of my poems are brutal as my ‘journey’ continues. Thank you for taking the time to read my poems.

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