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In the throes of pain, my words become tangled.
Drowning in a sea of despair, my poetry mangled.
The darkness consumes me, a black hole in my mind.
Leaving behind only words that are twisted and unkind.
The pain distorts my thoughts, contorts my heart.
Leaving me with nothing but a jumbled work of art.
My verses become bleak,
filled with sorrow and strife.
A reflection of that bleakness that colors my life.
The pen that once flowed with ease now scratches across the page. As I struggle to contain and convey the depths of my rage.
The beauty of my words, now a distant memory.
A casualty of the pain that has enveloped me.
Perhaps one day I'll find my way back to the light.
My poetry will once again shine happy and bright.
But for now, I remain trapped in this darkened land.
A prisoner of my pain, with thoughts I can't stand.
ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ
ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ..
ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢʰᵒʷⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᶠᶦᵍʰᵗᶦⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ.
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Side Effects
PoetryBroken poetry. Imperfect and I don't care to be anything different. My vices, my struggles.
