Each and every little thing,
the box on the floor
the broken door
the five minutes left to get to work
all working in union to form a plug in the pipe,
of your sanity.
that creaking pipe
that blinding light
that pile of clothes you need to dump
all building up until the pressure's too much,
to cope with.
the fragile line that tethers you to calm
has snapped.
all hell breaks loose
deafening, shouting
silently crying
in a corner all alone.
the unhinged monster you have become rampages
unstoppable, uncontrollable, unimaginably cruel.
It doesn't stop, It can't stop
It has been consumed by the stress
I caused you
there is no turning back.
I did this
YOU ARE READING
poetry dump
Şiirjust some poems i wrote ages ago in a semi chronological order mentions of sad stuff i guess
