Death.
Death.
Death.
If aliens invade, we'll die.
Death.
Death.
Death.
I hope the pills will abduct me to a better life.
Sleeping pills.
Painkillers.They're all fake.
The real pills are cyanide that I want to ingest.
I don't want to be awake again.
I want to rot in my room.
If I go outside, my lungs will shriek and I will gasp for air
letting toxins into my lungs.
YOU ARE READING
Alienated
PoetryIt's a bunch of poems that I wrote while venting. Some are from my other account and story called 'The Alien On Earth'. Trigger Warning: -Anxiety -Depression -Suicidal thoughts -Self-harm -Toxic relationships -Abuse