And on that lonely night,
When my head was clouded by my nightmares,
I gave in to my demons,
and I made friends with a monster within me,
But last night,
When all hope was lost and all progress forgotten,
And everything was worsening,
I picked up a pen,
Because there's nothing I regret more than picking up that wretched piece of metal.
I grasped the plain old plastic biro and let it bleed out all the unspoken words I had kept within me for so long and made peace with my thoughts,
And I made a friend,
Poetry.
[n.m]
YOU ARE READING
Shattered//poetry
Poesía//just writing down the messy thoughts that are too loud for my head to handle. //poetry, ::lowercase intended::
