The dots,
And dots,
That make up the carpet,
Move around.
They spin,
And glide,
And jump,
And twist.
They make me dizzy,
And sick,
Because they move,
So quickly.
So quickly,
That I,
Cannot take,
A single breath.
So quickly,
That I,
Cannot hold,
In a tear.
And as my head spins,
And my lungs shout for air,
The dots on the carpet,
They move.
YOU ARE READING
Personification
Poetry//3rd Place Arctic Awards// Through poetry, this book expresses different mental illnesses, emotions and discoveries of a teenage mind. 'No amount of body lotion or perfume could cover up the memory of his smell on my weakened, scarred skin, And no...
