I'm clutching at something
It's cold like ice
And dead like dreams
It screams, in lust
It screams, in agony
My eyes, see
See the trees fade
And rot with decay
I sway to the music
In time to a lie
I sway and fall
And I hope to fly
I sway and fall
And hope with a fluttering heart
To dream or die
YOU ARE READING
trigger points.
PoetryA collection of my original poetry/prose from 2006 onwards. Warnings: these poems deal with mental illness, including mentions of self harm, suicide, emotional anguish and abuse. Please do not read if you might be triggered by such content.
