It changes.
Changes every second.
My mood ring would be
Green and then black.
When I feel it coming on,
I listen to my music,
Slipping the headphones over my hair,
And jerking my head to the metal,
Rock,
And Panic! At The Disco.
Tears slip out of my eyes,
Few at first
Then more.
Drowning the world out,
Paying no attention
To their concerns.
Running everything over in my mind,
Trying to be quiet
Because I know everyone else
Is asleep long since.
But at 3:00 in the morning,
I'm still awake.
Still breathing.
Still surviving.
And that's not a good thing.
YOU ARE READING
Submerged Stories
PoetryLong story short, this is a book of stories about my life that I don't tell anyone else, expressed through the beautiful art of poetry. Poetry is my way of finding myself, and hopefully you as readers will be able to find yourself as well. TRIGGER W...
