3am
I am once again caught up at 3am
drowning in the depths of
insecurities
familiar beasts are back all over
again
mocking me to let them under my
skin
I am once again caged by darkness
lost in a maze of paranoia and agony
with anguish written all over my
face
wondering how did I end up like this
I am once again caught up at 3am
with eyes staring blankly at my
reflection
deciphering this tragedy all over
again
caught up with nothing but
confusion
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YOU ARE READING
He Who Cried Words
PoetryYou made my eyes cry but never of tears. You stabbed my chest but it never made me bleed. When you broke me apart, you just gave life to an art. When you broke my heart, you only fueled me to write. -E. Pleuvoir Cover made with canva
