I stare at this ceiling in the dark,
with the same empty feeling in my heart.
the weight of decisions on my chest,
the smell of beer on my breath.
you broke me, into this creature,
now I am nothing but a sculpture.
emotionless and still.
YOU ARE READING
The World In My Words
PoetryThese are my stories, they are my words and my thoughts and my feelings. It takes time to turn tragedy into art. This is my corrupted world in words. This is a message from the breathless. Can you read between the lines?
