A sentiment that anguishes me and my shadow
I must convalesce
Until the torment subsided
This impulse
That intertwines with actuality and reverie.
On the antithetical,
I can't bolt from it.
I discern like I've been extract and corrupt from this sphere.
Why would I think this sphere is acquisitive and abominable to me?
It is eccentric to me to thought of this.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of Anxiety
PoesíaA book of any one's perspectives and actual experiences all about depression... x_x To put it simply, this is a book full of depression... *Updates whenever I have free time :) *Photos are not mine...
