I have a Phobeas.
your not born with it.
Your shaped and molded into its arms .
Stairs
Being thrown of stairs makeing me afriad of stairs.
Alone quiet rooms
Being threated to be walked apon and beaten out of thin air.
Loud screams
Being shouted at from behind.
I have them
you have them.
Theres my skeltons in my closets.
I can't hide them because the hold my hand in day-to-day life
I just wish i would be the one to hide..
YOU ARE READING
Poems from a liar
PoesiaPoems on topics that everyone deals with. When your sad and want someone to understand read a poem and smile :P
