Here we go again.
I'm crying off my face at 2 a.m.
And I can't pick up my chin
I can't pretend anymore.
I'm still a child in need of help.
I'm afraid of the thoughts of the dark.
I'm afraid of falling from great heights.
I'm afraid of my own reality
Because it's coming down around me.
I stopped looking for monsters under my bed
And in my closet
When I realized they were in my head. AGD
YOU ARE READING
Painting With Words
PoetryThese are subtle glimpses I get from the lives of the people around me, written as poems. Some refer to me; most don't. Enjoy.
