Darkness seeping through your veins
To numb the scars of yesterday
A hollow pit inside your pain
To mask the thoughts you'll never say
You sit there on a rock and think
Of tears you'll never cry
You're standing there upon the brink
Of what's a lifelong lie
They tell you, Oh you'll soon forget
Let hope replace the fear
But images of sweet regret
Will always haunt you here.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Confusion
PoetryDiana Miller is schizophrenic...or at least she thinks so. She has never been clinically diagnosed because her father believes that mental illness is demon possession, and she knows he would never take her to a psychiatrist. To cope with her inner c...
