•voices
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it's at late dark nights,
my mind runs wild.
they come back again,
those little voices inside my head.
mirrors fogging up
and water trickling down.
bloodshot eyes.
I look at myself and wonder why.
it's when I see my true self,
so vulnerable and dead.
YOU ARE READING
b l u e
Poetryblue |bloo| melancholy, sad, or depressed. sad and lonely in a strange city. poems are written by me. Copyright © 2018 by @aaryaeh
