My traitorous heart
Beats erratically
Constantly afraid
My lungs can’t get air
Can’t breathe deep enough
I almost feel faint
My apocalypse
Destruction of me
I won’t survive this.
Save me from myself.
YOU ARE READING
My Apocalypse
PoetryWhen my thoughts escaped to paper, I was helpless to stop their flow. So we are here, staring at this description, and wondering if it's enough to catch your eye. Am I wrong?
