I write in loops. My words, I trust
Will reach your ears with shine or rust
I speak reverse. The words I speak
Are perched upon this wretched peak
I tell my lies. Don't trust, my friend
Or you may reach your messy end
I'm well aware. This tale I spin
Will bring the noisy, grinding din
I use my words. They all are lies
But you won't listen when the owl cries
I write in loops. My words are false,
They cut in deep, like sharpened saws.
YOU ARE READING
sometimes
PoetryA collection of mentally ill poems about the world, written by a mentally ill person. Perfect if you're into abstract or freeform poetry. New updates come at random times, but expect slightly consistent updates at least once a week or so! Top 10 in...
