It eats me
Piece by piece.
Slowly and quietly
It creeps into me,
I stare at the wall
Blue or green
And let it consume me.
The moon is
Round and bright
But it has
A dark side too.
Maybe it's mine,
Or I am its.
Perhaps in time
I will be nothing
Without it.
Perhaps together we shine,
Or I am just losing my mind.
YOU ARE READING
Inside The Spiral
PoetryOne of the best ways to let the turmoil inside your head is to write. At least for me. Here's a collection of poems, some are sad, some have hope, some are just me trying to figure out why. Okay, almost none of them have hope. But eh.
