Black, everything black like my soul,
nasty darkness engulfing me whole,
bloodshot red eyes staring into space,
bags below them on now pale face,
the usually racing heart now paralysed,
with no emotions, no love, nor despise,
all thirst lost, my now parched throat,
as if sitting unmoving in my sinking boat,
like holding a breath under suffocating waters,
like watching lifelessly how everything scatters,
my bleeding wrist exerts no more pain,
nor i can feel the throbbing of a single vein,
like falling under gravity, everything numb,
like knifes piercing harshly, while i succumb,
extracting my core, violating my deeps,
just sitting cold, no wails, no weeps,
shrills and shrieks in my ears yet i am still,
all soul sucked out, like my hope, my will,
frozen in place, inhaling final breath,
silently watching my living death.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Vote and share if you like it. Comment your views. Follow for more. Add this to your reading list or library.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of a Juvenile
PoetryWords are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hob...
