in a room
with the darkness
swirling around me
pressing into my skin
and suddenly
heat fills the small room
and there's smoke in
my eyes
but I'm still able to see
the fire consuming the room
consuming me
and as I frantically search
I realize
that there's no neon "exit" sign
in sight
(a/n: my poetry doesn't always reflect my mental state. I am vv happy atm)
YOU ARE READING
maybe i'm dreaming (COMPLETED)
Poetrya sky full of poems, none of which connect (stars without constellations) this is a compilation of almost every aspect of my life in poems, as well as some fictional elements too i hope you enjoy my cemetery of secrets -lowercase is intended for sty...
