holding on for dear life.
as the rope slips through
my fingertips.
burning my hands as it
runs past my soft skin
the harsh fibres leaving marks
as I desperately try to hold on.
the rope is near its end..
i am holding on by a thread
but i'm loosing my grip..
i am loosing my grip
on my sanity.
YOU ARE READING
Words of the heart
Poetryfor anyone who has ever felt alone or doubtful about themselves, for the sad people who find comfort in poetry, for those who cannot seem to put their...
