Unforgiving darkness seeps in
Envelopes my room in one
Crawling over my possessions
Stalking up my bed
Paintings lay half finished
Dresses with no hems
Earrings lay with no gems
And the dark mass swallows it
The night-light is off
The blinds firmly closed
And the covers pulled close
The clock ticks continually
The books stand stationary
The plants continue to respire
But laying there, covers upto eyes
It would seem like another night
Right?
Except the night is when
The mind runs unchecked.
YOU ARE READING
Certainty Of Midnight
Poetryemotion ɪˈməʊʃ(ə)n/ noun a strong feeling deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others. A snippet of a teenage girl's mind. Excuse the hormonal anger. I started this book when I was thirteen or fourteen. I publish, unpublish...
