My face was the canvas and my tears the brush
Strokes down my cheek
The salty taste reminding me of the ocean
Making me want to live
So so badly
I gasp for air, but I'm smothered, suffocated
By my own pain, my own lusts
No good to be proud of
Too much bad to be good
Weak knees, falling into prostration
Seeking, needing:
Emancipation
'' Save me from my self
You are the owner of happiness
So help me God
So help me God ''
YOU ARE READING
The Chronicles Of My Mind
PoetryWith the gaping void inside of my heart, I lift my pen and splatter its ink. Letters, words, sentences and paragraphs. Emotion too immense to utter, seeking empathy, the tears fall one by one, then oceans. A poem- the result of such melancholy.
