Can I leave the lights off upstairs?
Your questions eat at my core, dig at my motives
See through my defenses, see me.
A therapist that hauls me out into the streets
Drags me across the train tracks
Pitches me over the edge
Leave me, in red puddles, and stones
Leverage against me
Hurl boulders and insults
Rip my clothes, tear me hair
Leave me bare
Ruined
Lost.
Curled in the streets
My own thoughts wolves
Hound me, circle, kill
I cannot be safe from my brain
I am my therapist; the doctor
I am my patient; the child
I am the village; the stones
I am the wolves; my killer
I am not safe here
Please
Please
Let me leave the lights off
YOU ARE READING
After (2024)
NouvellesIt's a story about recovering from depression. My journey to stay happy after a long couple years. I write mostly poetry. If you want to read more about my struggles click my profile, I have one published story detailing my 2023 year. It's still har...
