Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I fight with empty hands
 Against depression,
 Against the indifference 
Of the people who hurts me.

Like in an armed robbery,
 I raise my hands up.
My knees burn from the nails
Left on the black floor overnight.
 
 They know where to hit me, 
To fall at their feet.
They know how to hate me, 
To make me hate my life.  

They throw bullets, 
I bleed everywhere,
 Reaching the deepest wounds
 Of my painful soul.  

My fingers hurt, 
Please pull the trigger.
I want the bullets to come 
Out of my bleeding body.  

I cover my ears with my hands full of wounds, 
I can't stand to hear the noise.
You are not able to fight without weapons, 
Let me breathe once more, for the last time.