My heart is hurt, my eyes are red, and my thighs are full of blue
my mind is like a puzzle, missing all the pieces that represents life, replacing them with devils
I'm sick of hearing what isn't true
tired of pain pain in all it's forms and levels
my soul is an unfinished work of art, waiting for the creator to give it some meaning
my conscious is being ignored by the loud voices inside my head
I sometimes find myself leaning
Leaning towards the end.
YOU ARE READING
Breathers.
PoetryThese are just some of my random thoughts and you can also say that it's a collection for my other works, I hope that you find them enjoyable♡
