7:49 pm, Sunday, 18th June
In the midst of the night,
when stars dance across the navy skyline,
her sorrows flicker like faint lights in
the cavity of her mind.
Her hands work away distress through
swift movements upon paper,
blotting inky lines into letters
that form words which cluster to create
paragraphs of raw, uncensored emotion.
YOU ARE READING
dysphoria
Poetrysilent pleas from a heart that's been tainted blue, a mind that ripples in constant turmoil and a mouth that remains shut //
