there are some words,
i'd like to say to my demons.
for 94 quotes-poems,
i've been blind of how to end this.
cause i lost my glass slipper,
from the time my promise was marred.
crawling out of wonderland,
from this madness, my colors have been scarred.
and there's a storm.
inside of this villainous mind.
it scared off my librarian
because my monsters would always collide.
there have been some hypocrites,
and letters to both my father and death.
sometimes it was saying goodbye,
because in this paradox, i can't catch my breath.
but trust me, darling, i'm fine,
yet i have this love for lies.
a wanderer off the road to OZ,
because my name, the unknown always cries.
and don't forget the fire,
that these demons seem addicted to fight.
broken with all the wild shadows,
that placed a prison around my light.
understanding maleficent,
because my dear, i'm a little diseased.
dead inside of this smile,
and of this dark grace, you'd never see.
i will drop from my collapsing stars.
fading with the panic of each scream,
cause my future seems deranged.
and this nighttime is constantly bleeding,
because this magic is such a dilemma,
if only it were simple to show.
standing beside these dark memories,
but it's all fake dreams and a neverending blackhole.
but friend, i miss the stars,
i am but a fantasist at this deaf heart.
wishing i could fly to neverland,
but norm and legends aren't compatible arts.
and i seem to be nothing but a broken soul,
reaping these insecurities so raw.
because i am but brown-eyed paranoia.
happy to speak the language of my many flaws.
and prometheus, please;
remove this asylum pretense.
because taking the jump of hangman's cliffs,
suddenly makes so much sense.
yet this 'sorry' isn't admitting defeat,
there are still words i'd like to say to my demons.
and after 94 quotes-poems,
i think i've finally realized how to end this.
to my demons, be concerned,
because this rose isn't dedicated to you.
this call is to all of the wolves out there.
who despite it all, walk this empty world through.
may you be a comma or a period,
your stories are not over.
and this work is dedicated to all the lost,
because you are the warriors.
;
dedicated to those who struggle every day, yet continue to fight.
you are the semicolon warriors.
YOU ARE READING
Words to My Demons | Poetry ✔️
Poetry❝she was simple, an angel born without wings. yet she was special, an enchanting song her lost soul sings. ❞ A dark and deep poetry collection of every little thing that makes us both unique and insane. ~ Highest ranking in Poetry: #7 ~ 1st Place in...
