I cannot leave the darkness.
Even as my soul breaks between the
raggedly beating heartaches that curl around my ankles;
only to drag me back.
This place of rigid pain.
Freezing your mind,
it wrings your bones releasing screams
like those heard in children's fears
at bedtime.
These are the pains that break a person.
The kind that slithers between cracks
in broken minds until all else withers;
leaving nothing.
But the pain is mine.
As my shivering hands pull ankles down;
my claws rend bone.
And any thoughts of a soul of
stone become dillusional dustclouds that cut and choke.
They say this is the darkness where great words linger and run.
If that be true,
I shall cut out my tongue.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers of the Mind
PoesíaWords have power. I learnt that from an early age. I love that you can bring people to other worlds and take them for a tour, create a whole universe in peoples minds, or give a special kind of hope and friendship to them. I love to welcome peopl...
