Staring at this device,
Thinking if it could save me
Or help me escape.
The will to burst into flood tears,
These dark shadows are taking over
With the flow of blood,
As if only in a minute,
The white floor would get full of crimson color.
This darker shade of crimson
Aren't wipeable.
Where had it all come from?
There's no way that someone could escape this.
Every superficial high
Took me back to those places,
From where only dead would return.
How many times do I have to kill me
Just to build me?
How many times do I need to tear myself
Just to have myself completely?
How many times do I have to recreate these words
Just to get them noticed?
Would cadaver work like it did for them?
What if I choose to not be one of them?
But would I become one of present times?
And every time I ask these questions
To this device as if it could save me!
YOU ARE READING
The Mad People's Dorm
Poetry"Mad People's Dorm" is a heartfelt collection of poetry that takes you deep into the emotions and thoughts of someone battling anxiety, betrayal, and inner turmoil. Each poem is a window into a mind that has faced darkness and is striving to find li...
