There's a pounding in my head
Behind my eyes
No one can see
It pounds out these words
Words that turn to thoughts
You are not good enough
Worthless
Stupid
Ugly
My migraine has a head too
I can not think
My migraine is taking all control
Drowning Suffocating
In her words
She does not have a name yet
My demon girl
Whispers to me
In the dead of the night
In the middle of the day
She is eating at my skin
My demon loves to tear at my heart
She likes to watch my pieces
Fall
She loves when tears pour from my eyes
She likes to see them form
Oceans
She does not
Have a name
She only uses whispers to speak
But when my eyes close
She screams
My demon girl hides
In the shadow of my window
Under my bed
Her black face
Her hollowed out eyes
Her heart glows red
But it is ripped and torn
My demon girl
She has no soul
I can see right through her
This is my migraine
She is the pounding
My migraine is a demon
My migraine is a she
My demon girl, she has no name
YOU ARE READING
Whispers Of Our Soul
PoetryWords are the lifeline that connect my heart to the world. This is a collection of my 2am confessions and my 12pm ideas. Told from the viewpoint of my struggling mind, my broken heart, my wild soul, and my screaming mouth. "Distruggi quello che ti d...
