The uncertainty is heavy
Perhaps we can learn to bear
With the constant unsteady
Lack of self awareness
Fluid waves of dread and agony
They pool into my veins
Until again, they seep out of me
Slowly down the drain
Struggling to refrain
From the demons within
They paint an alluring picture
But the walls are paper thin
If I were to stumble in
I would never come back again.
YOU ARE READING
Idiosyncrasies of an Introvert
Poetry{COMPLETE} Poetry from the ill mind ❝Her heart is played like well worn strings In her eyes the sadness sings Of one who was destined for better things.❞ © Lang Leav
