sometimes i think
i am just fooling myself
and that i haven't changed a single thing
i fed my rage a sleeping pill
kissed it with water
she couldn't leave
not without my fist
still inside me, waiting for the right moment to open her eyes again
just pretending to sleep
to make me feel at ease
YOU ARE READING
Dazed Off
PoetrySee what the young poet wrote in her old journals at only the age of twelve, and how her mental state progressively gets worse at age fifteen:) Collection of poems mostly about God, family, love, and hate to oneself. • most impressive ranking: #6 in...
