Lines
So many lines.
Drugs
And cuts
And thread.
So much thread.
Threads of innocence
Threads of blood
Threads of life
Behind dying eyes.
Your hands are cold
Your hair is tangled
Your thoughts are not thoughts
Are they?
Confused and lost
What is there left to do?
The keyboard in your brain never stops typing.
Lines of words
Thoughts.
Thoughts that become dreams.
Dreams becoming nightmares.
Nightmares haunting.
The black figure
The bugs
The lines of static
You ask them to stop
But they never do.
So you make more lines.
Of drugs
Of cuts
Of thread
Around your neck
Hoping it will all end
But it never does.
Does it?
It just hurts.
Your thoughts becoming dreams.
Dreams becoming nightmares.
Until there's nothing left.
But lines.
YOU ARE READING
POEMS
PoetryPoetry about myself, my life, and my friends. I love you all. Be safe. DMs are always open for anyone in need of help. If you are in crisis or need medical attention, please call 911 or the national suicide hotline 1-800-273-8255 (United States) ...
