i think you ought to stay away from here. there are ghosts in my walls and they crawl into your head through your ear. they'll poison you with their lies, you'll beg them to stop but they'll never cease. you'll sit on the shower floor alone, the water pounding your back and the steam clouding your lungs. sitting outside, they'll flood your lungs with pollen and cause thunderstorms to ruin your day. they won't stop until you're begging for mercy on the bathroom floor, the tiles stained with blood. they wont stop till you're screaming for your childhood back, the untouched innocence you had till you grew up and met a girl like me.
me.
i'm a haunted house. please don't go feel for me. i don't want you end up a ghost, stuck in your own prison of a mind. please.
i'll be here until the right person finds me and restores me to my perfection. don't worry. i'll be here.
hopefully they'll find me.
YOU ARE READING
Early Morning Scribbles
PoetryMy collection of poems, usually written in the early morning hours. (sometimes I'll make them at later times, haha)
