My room has four walls, a ceiling, a door and a window.
Each corner represents how everything is limited.
My walls are ice-cold but they melt me into the floor
Until someone knocks and open the door;
I thought they will know...
But they close it and I'm back again in the arms of nothingness--embracing every single part of my mind.
The wind rush in to my window
And I ignored the freezing point my room is reaching.
Until I become comfortable to the coldness I'm feeling.
And as I sit in the middle of emptiness, I feel the weight of the ceiling.
Heavy, and sometimes I wish for it to fall and burry me alive.
YOU ARE READING
The Darkness That Conquers Me
PoetrySome people may not understand the content and some may relate. I want people to know that this is common and might eat you alive. They say when you know you're being a victim, seek help. But it's not everytime that people will help people.
