Monday
I get lost in my head too much. I don't dream,
no, I just imagine. Big what ifs and
impossible happenings. I get scared,
though--I get tangled up in there, I
can't find the exit, and there's no
one there to help. What if one
of these times I never
make it out? Who
will be there to
assure me, "Don't
worry, it's not
real. Nothing
will hurt
you
now."
YOU ARE READING
Post Meridiem
PoetryI'd do anything to save myself. Hell, I'd even change the world.
