My mind isn't mine anymore
He owns it, he lives in it, he burned it
My life is barricaded by red strands of fabric
Out of sight and out of my mind
My conscious asks me to check the mirror
To see if I'm fine
He tells to look away
Because what's the point
My breathe becomes cold
My hands sweat
I shake
I drop both I and the blade
Crying for help silently
Tears slither down my skin
The serpent in my eyes strike me
Where is the anti-venom?
I'm sorry...
YOU ARE READING
Pø3ms (Don't judge please)
PoetryMy personal poems. They don't rhyme, so sorry guys. This is just something for me to do for myself. Thank you :)
