At night, I feel the death inside.
It's the type where you are still alive.
My mind, I wish, would just be quiet.
So, if I drown someday, don't try to save me.
I tied my burdens to my ankle, and let the rest of me die.
The harsh April winds grew silent.
I am a slave, and my mind's a tyrant.
Who ever knew the softest soul could be so violent.
I did, but no-one would listen.
At least now, in my temoporary home; my body, I no longer have to pay the rent.
YOU ARE READING
Inside La'Zavier's mind.
RandomThis shall be where I post old poems, short stories, and some of my original songs, as well. I know this outta be AMAZING. *high-key sarcasm* Um, enjoy?
