My eyes roll back in my head.
Another universe in which I were dead. Hmm. I keep on dreamin'.
Hm. I keep on takin' a breath. Hm. But it won't seem to be my last.
Dancin' around the room.
Tear filled eyes.
Just wishin' I could gouge them out.
Wandering about, wishing someone would break in, see something in the window.
It'd give me a better explanation to when people ask "Why are you afraid?" So I can stop lying when the truth is, it's my brain.
Done with fighting what they're tellin' me.
Not what to do.
What to say, what to think, what to see, what to believe, what to be: A bitch, that's what you are.
Seeing things, call them dreams. But in every endin' I die. It's over for me.
Smile at the thought.
When the good things start to rot. Cause they're too old." Then what?"
Where do you go?
YOU ARE READING
Poetry & Songs
PoetryWhen I feel something, I write it down, so it can be felt again.
