Its only a 4am fix
One with pain and suffering,
Of endless loneliness
And a mix of self loathing and pandemonium
The continuation of depression,
Seeks you out from the shadows,
And draws you closer in its arms.
Its never letting go.
You're simply left there,
Frantically grasping at straws,
Its a panicked collection of thoughts,
None were ever only yours.
Its now 5am,
The abyss of numbness
Verging on pain swallows you.
Even the prettiest of wrists
Had just been kissed.
YOU ARE READING
Ink (Trigger Warning)
PoetryPoetry written by me. Inspiration found in everyday life continues to spark ideas for my poems, if anyone reading this has any poetry please tell me I would love to read it. Top ranking: #11 in poems
