To my room I feel confined.
Trapped.
A prisoner of my own mind.
Celings are getting taller
Sweat is soaking my collar
My throat is getting smaller
I am barely able to call out her
name.
I am getting smaller but my vices and flaws are not reacting the same.
The shame
becomes too much and suddenly these made up floors turn into made up dust
and the hate I can feel it
in the back of this room.
my mind.
its calling...
these made up floors turn into dust and suddenly I'm falling.
The pain I feel it in my ears
my mouth,
these locked doors.
I'm falling.
Suddenly there is dust all around me and I'm no longer standing on made up floors.
Suddenly.
The hurt I feel it in the boarded windows,
or...
my eyes?
The hurt I feel it like a shooting pain from wall to wall it stings my thighs.
Suddenly?
suddenly...
the floors,
the dust,
it's all lies.
and suddenly
I'm
falling.
I have been falling.
I am still falling.
How long have I been falling.
YOU ARE READING
Crooked Thoughts
PoetryAll the thigs I could never explain trying to be explained. Just putting feelings into words I guess. I guess it's slightly triggering but what Isint these days.
