My Grave

12/16/17

I can see it lingering above your head as you walk the halls, as you sit on the bus, as you laugh with the rest of us.
It's a demon that pulls at your hear, a monster that scrapes at your skin, a ghost that screams in your ears.
You don't acknowledge it and you ignore that the pain is there. You won't talk about it, but those wall's that you've built up are all falling down, no, turning to glass, because we can all see it.
You've grown tired, but not weak.
Please open up. This weight you carry is going to soon destroy you, and we will all be here watching