and within me is nothing
except the hate that makes my bones break
echoing from every pore
resonance of my inner core
clinging to every piece of fabric i own
strength i had now long gone
ending dawn before the day
giving in to every night's decayand within me is nothing
except the hate against myself
that eats every substance from my shell.
YOU ARE READING
THERAPY SESSION
Poetrybut what do you expect from a therapy session? poetry & prose