It's the little things;
A noise, a flash of light,
A silhouette in the mirror,
A glimpse of movement.
Things that aren't there.
As I fall asleep,
Gruesome faces appear
Just before I close my eyes.
Sometimes I blink
And I see blood.
Blood everywhere.
And within a second,
It's gone.
I can't function normally-
I'm too afraid of my mind.
At night, it's hell.
I can't help but wonder...
What's wrong with me?
YOU ARE READING
Poems and Heartache
Poetry{Po•em} [noun] Something that arouses strong emotion because of its beauty
