I stood still leaning against the sweeping wind
My breath a phantasm of warmth
Doesn't cease the icicles gliding into my core
Caressed by snowflakes
Starry eyes and neon sights
Freeze me comfortably
Death to state of mind
And my will to fight
YOU ARE READING
still sinking
PoetryIf the monsters of my mind manifested into poetry, there are no greater weapons than the words I write to defeat them. We've all been through dark times so let me take you through mine.
