How can I care
about creatures,
mythical creatures that roam the sky,
when there are real monsters
in my mind?
I have bigger problems
These weeds keep growing back
No matter how much
these "sweet dreams" sugarcoat them
My green garden is now
a mess of thorns
Rescue me from this hell
Control my mind
Hold it by a leash
I'll help you cast the spell
Sweet , sweet dreams
Don't wake up
And do not sob or scream.
YOU ARE READING
Running With Scissors
Poetry"Run away, they will have to find some other hearts to break" - All Time Low.
