its so quiet here
isn't it fun to be alone?
in whispered breaths, you soon ask
who am i to be without the one?
for each one you ask back
you really know how to drop that guillotine
though you'd never want to see them bleed
mowed down through no fault of your own
but youd never want to wake up
while you silently wish you do
at the convergence of intent and suffering
you get those who stand at railroad crossings
as a train passes
mere feet away from them
and they only barely resist the thought.
youd lie in this gray area
for months, years, pondering what to do
as your soul deteriorates before your eyes
as a result of guilt
ah
whos there at the door
knock knock knocking away?
each rap on the heavy wooden husk
the wall falls away
leaving a solitary entrance
in a realm of black
only thing between the noise and me
is the door that has repelled many attacks
standing unabashed and proud
the bangs continue
once and for all
i got to answer my question
who are you
and more importantly
who are you to stop me?
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife
