praying on the ones who walk at night,
taking out the ones with tears blurring their sight,
digging its long terrible claws into their skin,
making sure their is never a win,
it's the thing that makes you itch,
it's the person that telling you that you have a glitch,
insecurities,
something you're supposed to pull away and leave,
you let it stay yet another day,
somehow you don't see it pick up your emotions and play,
on your insecurities,
you are down while it is pleased,
just let it be from the start,
from that midnight street,
you'll thank me.
YOU ARE READING
Don't You Get It? ✅
Poetrywhen i tried to avoid the fact i wanted to die, by writing anti-suicide poems. now this book sort of became a person, it grew a mind, a soul, and a heart. so, in turn, it kept listening to my petty problems. (lowercase intended) Highest Ranking: #18...
