Blood spilled on the floor,
As I cry behind the bathroom door.
I always thought I could be more,
But all I do is moan and crawl.
My limbs were torn off by despair.
and my head was clouded with paranoia.
Anxiety got my tongue and I couldn't speak.
My breath was stolen by melancholy.
I looked up and saw my prison.
A prison I made for myself.
With no point of salvation, darkness embraced me.
Like a mother, she lulled me to eternal slumber.
YOU ARE READING
Reveries & Wonders
PoetryI bleed words and turn them into literary pieces. A collection of my poems and short stories. Photo by: Hannah Busing
