There is a feeling.
Bubbling up from inside me.
It curdles my stomach
And squeezes my heart.
There is a feeling.
Bashing my head from within.
Impairing my heart
And strangling my lungs.
There is a feeling.
Brandishing knives and
Instruments of torment.
Anguish settling within my soul.
There is a feeling.
Burning my heart.
Incarcerating my head.
All light extinguished.
There is a feeling.
Bringing foul stench of filth
Into my being.
Any good relieved of duty.
There is a feeling.
Bubbling up from inside me.
It kills my desire.
And strings my heart along for the ride.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryI'm going to dump all of my terrible poetry here for all the world to see. Just a warning, it can be pretty dark.
