A million of them:
unseen voices,
with their harsh whispers
cutting sharp into my head
carving sick images into my skull
I can't breath, I can't feel
numb, so numb, so alone,
but yet so crowded-
the voices,
controlling me
the voices,
tricking me
the voices,
killing me
YOU ARE READING
The Ending to all Means
PoetryA collection of poems I have written throughout the years.
