Her past is a perennial plant, her mistakes an elongated trunk that
twists and turns inside her brain until she can't breathe.
And she knows her demons will last a lifetime supporting untamed
emotions that have persisted in her soul.
So when she blossomed
her spine grew thorns drenched in hate
that had nowhere else to go.
YOU ARE READING
Screaming Into The Void
Poetry#1 in poetry :) #1 in free verse :) Have you ever felt like it was the end? Like today was just a bad day? That no matter how many times you believe that something can happen that it just might not? That no one gives a damn at all? That all you do...
