My head goes fast...
I trip over my thoughts.
I want to believe that my existence matters to the atmosphere,
and to some of those within it.
Silent nights are never there.
While every individual is asleep,
My thoughts always come out
(whether I want them to or not.)
They disrupt my struggling slumber,
swinging from wall to wall.
In the morning, they leave me dizzy;
Intoxicatingly heavy, with a deep headache of confusion,
and the destruction of a dying self-control and confidence.
My head goes fast...
Too fast.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
