What if the rain
never comes
to wash away
these thoughts?
Will I remain
poisoned by my
own mind?
These twisted anxieties
wrap around
my throat
like a noose,
and I don't know
what I can do—
I don't know
if I can do anything
to stop these
thoughts from
suffocating me.
Oh please,
help me
wash away
my mind.
Wash away
the ability to think
and to feel.
Leave me
like an empty canvas
with nothing
but the void
to keep me company.
YOU ARE READING
The Ebb & Flow of Virtue
Poetry~ There is good and bad constantly warring with each other inside you, a small voice resounds in my conscience just as my vision dips underneath the salty water, it is similar to how the land fights with the sea, the sky with gravity, the light...
