I am breathing
Maybe I choke a little
But I'm breathing
Aren't I?
My favourite colour hides behind a dingy yellow cloak
I no longer see the fluffy clouds
Nonetheless
But I'm looking for the missing ball of warmth
Aren't I?
The darkness surrounds me
I shut my eyes tight
Panicked
I remember the last punishment
Squeezing tighter
But I am watching
Aren't I?
The banging door
A weakened soul
And weak knees too
Not from age but experience great
Of what's coming soon
I imagine myself at Mad Hatter's tea
Or flying with Pan over the endless sea
I know the sound of this endless sweep
But I'm holding on to hope
Aren't I ?
YOU ARE READING
Rose Garden Filled With Thorns
PoetryInsecure in the most secured places. No control over the dynasty of faces. So just buckle up or tie your laces. Words coming your way, be ready to brace it. (Will update as I write)
