Nous Parlons En Lagues
- Reads 17
- Votes 4
- Parts 4
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Fri, May 27, 2016
We speak in tongues, blacker than the sun; No death can touch, the crooked young.
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Yes my little creatures, another poetry series. For you people who followed my last account, you'll obviously know I had one before but discontinued it. This one is different, though. This is matured, it holds slightly more life experience. This my friends is a new chapter of my life and you get a glimpse of what goes on in my brain when I'm alone and genuinely thinking instead of just binge eating or screaming song lyrics, this is Mememotionless. Raw, true, & painful.
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#834
cry
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For every person out there that was quiet, not because they chose to be so, but because they were choking in the smoke. Because their opinions were apparently not worth anything. Because they didn't know just how to say what they felt. For every person that is consumed by their own thoughts, the derision from the outside world only making it worse. For every soul that was drowning in remorse and anguish on restless nights. For every soul that says I love you in the dark and in the mirror because no one else does. For the floors we would pace while anxiety sunk its teeth into us. For the mirrors that we would break while shame echoed its laugh in our caged walls. For the hearts that would ache while loneliness was the only company. For every moment of pain and solitude in this world that feels too cruel for such young and frail minds.
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