Funny how fast things change.
In seconds all falls in pieces
Like shards of glass through skin.
Where do I begin
to explain the hurt that it releases?
How can one explain
what one doesn't understand?
My brain's in shambles,
Did things I couldn't handle,
All at its demand.
No one dares to disobey.
It did with me what it willed.
I had no strength to fight,
though I tried with all my might,
so its desires, I did fill.
Its voice doesn't stop at "no"
No. It does not stop.
It has sympathy for none.
There was nothing to be done
to make me land on top.
How stupid can we be?
This man-made thing
relishes in haunting men.
Doesn't matter where or when.
How we despise its lethal sting.
It toys with your brain
almost like a game.
Making you anticipate the pain,
then it strikes and leaves a stain,
and somehow you're the one to blame.
It knows your weakness
and it doesn't give a damn.
It gives you no chance
to finish your last dance.
It is the lion and you are the lamb.
No ones dares to fight,
because we know who always wins.
We know how easily we bend
before the thing that has no end.
Damned before it even begins.
YOU ARE READING
Overthinking.
PoesiaThis is a book comprised of many kinds of poetry. I talk about topics that are kind of dark, kind of scary, but also very real.
