I've been TIred and stressed out for far too long that I've started to record this song in my head, which seems as if it'll never end.
Do I want it to stop or not that's the thought that I dread that one-day ill fall off this thin thread
Dead.
That'll be me all red and beat, trick, or treat?
It's not Halloween, even so, ill be there, the man on the street bittersweet feeling somber and weak.
Bleak
Is the land in which I reside, even though dry I still cry and weep until its time.
Ticking
That's me the mouse on the clock somehow still kicking, frowning yet grinning at the thought that this is only the begging, pinning me down to the bed at which I lay, death or not I dare not try and stay in one place for the fear that they'll notice I'm out of place and a waste of space.
A race, that's what I've been running an endless masquerade, I pray for aide please don't trade me away and make me your maid and degrade thy name only to put a blade to my already dark shade from the aftermath of...
I'm afraid to be alone.
I'm scared that I may be the one playing this already obvious song not knowing how to turn it off nor throw it away but I do know how to lower the volume in my brain.
I guess I'm a crashing plane, mayday, mayday...
YOU ARE READING
Poems For The Soul & Thoughts For The Mind
PoetryA trip in to my mind, filled with poetry and odd thoughts. By the way some of things I think may be kind of out landish, just warning you. Also a lot of what I write is depressing. *potential trigger warning*
