It's happening again. The numbness, the pain, is taking over. I can feel the edges of that hole deep inside my chest, radiating -spreading like a virus- outwards to every inch of my body. I thought last time was bad; when the gaping wound in my chest was first torn. I was wrong. Oh, so wrong. That was no more than mere child's play in comparison. I'm not sure I can survive this...
YOU ARE READING
A Story Told, But Never Really Heard
PoetryThis is me. With no boundaries I reveal myself and hopefully save myself. I'm not sure whether I am writing this for you, or for me, but I hope it makes an impact none the less.
