People make her nervous,
addicted to the isolation of her room.
retreating from the judgemental crowds,
always scared of what they assume.
nowhere to run among the millions of faces,
ostracized for standing out.
indoors is the only place she can hide,
arguing with the voices of constant doubt.
she had ice in her veins and fire in her blood.
lurking shadows in her mind and paranoia in a crushing flood.
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Words to My Demons | Poetry ✔️
Poetry❝she was simple, an angel born without wings. yet she was special, an enchanting song her lost soul sings. ❞ A dark and deep poetry collection of every little thing that makes us both unique and insane. ~ Highest ranking in Poetry: #7 ~ 1st Place in...
