A cold chill in the air tonight,
A dark whisper is in the wind.
Dark images in the candlelight
And I'm without a friend.
A silver glint on an old dull blade,
No sharp edge for me to feel.
I have so many cuts already made
And I'm much too weak to heal.
So many memories bombard my head,
And I feel myself begin to cry.
I want to crawl underneath my bed
And never meet His eye.
So many things attack my brain
And I can tell I won't survive,
But I'd rather let my memories remain
Than forget and stay alive.
YOU ARE READING
Peeking Through the Window
PoetryA book filled with poetry I've written and am writing. I'm considering trying to get published, but I don't think I'm really good enough. Please feel free, by the way, to leave comments. I enjoy knowing what people think, as long as they are not r...
