Heart beating.
Blood dripping.
Body heating.
Feet slipping.
Turning bends.
For if I'm caught,
My life ends,
My struggles for naught.
Eyes crying.
Mouth screaming.
Me dying.
I must be dreaming.
My heart stops,
My blood no longer flowing.
My body drops,
My feet no longer going.
I'm running from my self.
So honey if you would,
I really need some help,
So help me if you could.
I'm sprinting from my hate,
So run as fast as you can.
Oh, for me you wait?
That isn't a good plan.
Leave me behind.
Go and save yourself.
This is my kind
Of punishment for falling off the shelf.
(FYI, by falling off the shelf, I mean being different from "normal" people. )
YOU ARE READING
A book of poetry
PoetryThis is a bunch of poetry I either wrote or found. The ones with an asterisk (*) in the title are the ones I wrote. Any others I found. Please no stealing the ones I wrote and please don't criticize them too harshly. I did my best on them.
