Running in circles until I cant remember what I wanted in the first place can become tedious work when the rest of the room is spinning with you.
Its gotten so that I cant recall the faces of the people who stared at me with love until I found a way to screw it up.
Cold dark circles find their way into my bleeding mind, making a home in my torn brain cells.
Torn both literally and figuratively;
Torn between her,
Torn between them,
Torn between myself and the rest of the personas which have taken root in my malleable mind.
Torn between lives.
YOU ARE READING
Turquoise Sunsets
PoetryA collection of my poetry. Some of them I am actually quite proud of, some of them I just wanted to write. There are a bunch of different styles and topics, and I hope that you enjoy! I will probably update at least once a week if not more. Not all...
