In a state of true psychosis, the surpassion of previous limits appears as a cycle of indeterminate delusions that sedate the body while racing unstaid mind; in which others to be dead are left to watch the attempted undoing of crossed past until it concludes in either the control of being trapped in one's own madness to strive the creation of happiness, or the solution of suicide to achieve tranquility from a maniacal-thought ridden intellect abandoned in smiling, tear stained shreds.
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Poems
PoetryJust a collection of poems I wrote, most have darker themes, so here's your angst/trigger warning if you need it. I write these on a pc so if the format looks weird on your phone that's probably why.
