A scar of panic spurted from her heart
as all things faded into the fog of her oblivion.
She wears the armour of steel on the battlefield
as her sword clashes with the churning ambiance of fear.
She faces the darkest moment of her life
Nobody can see
Nobody can hear.
1...
2...
3...
and breathe.
She is the war with her anxiety
combating day and night
To quiet down her thief of joy
That screams, when will you ever be good enough?
That's when she uses her sword and fights the enemies in her head.
She is a warrior of her thoughts, battling for the surrender of her tranquillity.
______________________________________
𓁍
YOU ARE READING
the words I kept
Poetry"𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓱..." These are the feelings I carried with me, thoughts I held back, scars I hid, and all the words I kept; my friend and my foe. A C H I E V E M E N T S : » 𝑾𝒂𝒔...
