Big dreams, big things
Tearing at the seams
Holes in my jeans, knives in my heart
Crossing paths with life
Feeling unhinged
Running over my demons
With every breath I fake
Fading through bravery and
Swallowing the poison
Burning papers of grief
Stealing this much madness
Makes me wonder if I'm a thief?
YOU ARE READING
The Poors Of The Pity •Mental Health Poetry•
PoetryThis ones is filled with poems that I had created when I was going through a rough patch. Its shows you that it doesn't last forever though it might feel like it. I was going through a lot in multiple scenarios and I just wanted to show you if you w...
