Pieces of me are still unseen.
Flashes of my other body still cling to me.
Mimicking the cycle of twenty-three.
When is it my turn to see the beam?
YOU ARE READING
The Entity Depression
PoetryA diary filled with my poetry that I write when I am depressed.
Karma
Pieces of me are still unseen.
Flashes of my other body still cling to me.
Mimicking the cycle of twenty-three.
When is it my turn to see the beam?
