153 days have I been trapped hither
in this cage they put me in-
no, not the enemy,
not my mother,
nor is it he.
this "they" I speak of
is none other than I.
My own haunting thoughts,
my own conscience.
I lie on the floor,
wondering where I went wrong
rather than attempting to fix this wrongness.
A thousand intrusives pass through this convoluted head of mine-
The old thoughts, those that scare me at night.
this prison
suffocates me
knocks my breath out from my lungs
kills me till I can die no more.
Yet I stay
right where I am,
right where they left me
In this hellscape with walls of misery,
as though a part of me
finds comfort in being here.
Perhaps, for it,
I will stay here,
A little longer until it wants out.
~♧~
YOU ARE READING
flares of these strange thoughts
PoetryStrange thoughts, thats one way to put it. A collection of some lines i came up with off the top of my convoluted head. To be frank, I'm not even sure if this is, as one would call it, poetry. The way all this came to be is, well, i think a lot. Abo...
