underwhelming feelings washing over
me and slowly growing around my waist
and hips like an infection. interjections
becoming as common as colds in winter-
thats when the wind forces me to
place my hands around my neck
and feel the heart that isnt mine
beating far quicker than it ever should.
my inner thighs are sore and so is my pelvis.
why wont they ever stop weakening,
just as my knees do? waking up as if
ive been dead for decades;
just not bad enough.
YOU ARE READING
my darkest mind
Poetryoh, my darkest mind, still as you incarnadine me in vain, you behold me as i fall. deeper, my darkest mind, roiling in fury, the fever you gift me, pain that befalls me, obsidian once sharp had since dulled to reveal the rectification of what used...
