The waves of depression are crashing against my skull, drowning me on the bed I've made. I look up to sing hallelujah to the half lidded moon, as you're across my world, sitting pristinely still. Saltwater is filling up my lungs and I'm losing my balance on the jagged rocks. The dark creatures of the deep are starting to surround me as they emerge with their teeth bared toward my exposed flesh. I feel my cold feet slipping on the certainty of my survival. Do I sit here during the violent storm, or do I fight for the calm after? Or am I stuck in between, in the eye of the hurricane?
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•Mind on Paper•
PoetryThis is going to be a collection of late night thoughts and spurs of inspiration for your viewing pleasure. Some of these could be happy, sad, melancholic, and much more. My brain is the brush, the paper, or in this case the screen is my canvas. I...
