Pa kaj če pišem 2016

Sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating, but the only one that has a hold of my throat is me. And sometimes I feel like I can't even speak, but it's me biting my tongue. And I feel like I can't even function,

because the hatred envelops me. It sinks its nails right into my skin and the blood sips like I wish my fear would. I feel so terribly afraid of myself and what I am capable of. How much am I truly willing to hurt myself. I feel so horribly afraid how far I will go to feel my ribs. How long until I hear myself scream for mercy

from my own hands, as I sink even lower

cutting my skin with my own blades and my own tongue.

Meta Vražič, 4. A

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