Crushing weight.
Doubt. Fear. Guilt.
That's all I feel.
No release.
No mercy.
Darkness thrives.
The shadows are alive.
Darkness thrives.
Am I even alive?
Darkness thrives.
What's the point of being alive?
YOU ARE READING
Little Things That Poppy Writes ♡
PoetryHey there reader, Its Poppy here and this is my poetry book. It's not perfect. It's not amazing. Its definitely not prize-winning. But it is mine. I wrote these poems for me. And I'm proud of them. They don't rhyme, they might not make sense, but I...
