Linda Brooks Poems

What is blood?
It's the thing you write with,
the stuff we spill not caring whose it is,
only that we need our fill of it like a tick needs it to live.
...

Suicide its something I haven't thought of before,
People say it releases your pain,
I didn't know before but I think they might be right.
I decided I wanted to end my life,
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I'm sitting thinking what to do,
My eyes hardly open I can prove it too.
Brain storming
There is a storm in my head that won't die down.
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Scar, you mark me,
You disgust me,
You explain me,
Even though you might scare me,
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I thought of you,
Expected you.
You made me think I loved you,
Still you were unexpected.
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Beaten and burned,

Hurt and Alone,
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Different clothes
Different hair
Different face
Different me
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Laughter in a faded dream
From memories long forgotten
Images you cannot forget.
Stained forever in a clouded mind
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I hear words I can’t understand
My heart pounds in my ears
My blood turns to ice
My body is frozen
...