She cries
her eyes narrow and blink
slowly.
She screams
her lips stay closed.
She claws her face her hair her arms
her skin is smooth, void of any
marks nor scars.
She questions wonders doubts
her mouth doesn’t move,
doesn’t speak.
She drowns in the abyss
she inhales and exhales.
She drowns
inhale.
She drowns
exhale.
She drowns
inhale.
She drowns
exhale.
Until she no longer does.
YOU ARE READING
Intersections, Thunderstorms and No Sense of Direction
PoetryRandom pieces that help me keep writing and expressing myself. Story excrepts or single sentences, whenever I feel inspired or sort through the rubble in my mind. [Warning: First few chapters were written when I was young. Please understand that I w...
