THE MONSTERS IN MY HEAD
I'm hanging down like a dying bouquet,
Like a flower, shriveling in its pot,
Like an half eaten pastry, drying out,
Like the gleaming star, that disappears in the day.
I see my feets moving, but I don't see any footsteps.
I think I'm dead, or maybe I'm not.
The monsters in my head holds me tightly.
They creeps in, so slightly.
Sometimes they whisper,
Sometimes they yell.
They are never nice.
Punch to my guts,
Head constructs,
Terrible thoughts.
Self doubt, negativity and hurt,
Disgusted and ashamed.
They bosses me around,
They toss their words to me without care.
And I listen, unable to take control.
They holds power.
Sometimes I do wonder, 'Am I possessed?",
But then I remember,
I am only depressed and stressed.
⭐️
YOU ARE READING
Diary of a broken heart
PoetrySometimes even the strongest people break down ! Most times the ones that appear strong are the most broken !! Is this a cry for help?? No
