The sun has come up,
And I've forgotten how to swim.
The voices are telling me to run,
And the glass has changed it taste.
My hearing is muffled,
And the messages play back words.
My hands shake,
As the building topples.
The rain pours,
The puddles form,
My head is pounding,
And I can't speak.
The shadows leap,
Yet my friends are gone.
My mind wonders,
And walks down a path,
A path of fog,
And every step is a trap.
YOU ARE READING
Final Writings
PoesíaThis is just a place where I'm gonna let out my feelings. I warn you. It's not pretty. Triggering
