Sitting on cold linoleum.
Tears leaking from my eyes like old shadows.
Staining my face, wreathing my skin in wretched patterns.
In the stall of a bathroom in a building that leaks noise.
I drown in my own despair.
Sounds tear at me like acid.
Uninvited and unwanted, searing over my hypersensitive skin.
It is too loud. It is always too loud.
Blurry voices trail across the room.
There's someone calling my name.
Their voice breaks away in bursts of static that crowd my skull.
I break down.
Shut down.
In a dirt-stained bathroom stall,
My wires fray and die.
YOU ARE READING
Infinite Depths | a collection of poetry <33
Poetry"Though our depths be but infinite, we still drown within the edges of our skulls.' A sample of poetry from my officially published book! it's out now on Amazon <3 ☆ [Some of these poems touch on topics such as struggles with mental health and menti...
