Crawling in my Skin
A/N: This poem is based on the Linkin Park song "Crawling"
Come home to an empty house
sit on the end of my bed.
I look at the mirror.
My streaked face
is already bruising,
my arms and legs ache,
cuts and bruises
everywhere I look.
How can I stop it?
The pain it brings
is worse than death.
The pain it brings
crawls in my skin.