It is not real
Sort of like a glitch
Between Life and Death
Where I am not Living nor Dead
Existing, yes
Like a confused spirit
It is pitch black
Yet there is light
Only I know where it is
The only entrance is by sleep and dream
It is (sort of) quiet
Only my thoughts are heard
Some scream
While others whisper
They're my only company
It is where I like going
Getting away from life for a moment
How I love it there
For it is perfectly mine
YOU ARE READING
Over Think
PoetryWell this is just a collection of things that go on inside my head. So I'd like to share them with all of you.
