I am a writer
Of my wishful life
Filled with flowers and candies
I am the victim of my own attacks
A delusion being confused with reality
I have said, when I didn't utter a word
I did, when I never moved an inch
I got, when my hands are tied behind my back
With strings made out of my hair
A blooming flower
Rotting in the inside
Blinded by my own victimisation
The creator of my own suffering
The cause of my own demise
I lie so good, so believable
That i was engrossed in it
Living a lie...f
YOU ARE READING
Written By Emotions
PoetryA collection Written by emotions Poems written with blood and tears
