~=°•°=~
The thoughts in my head
They bother my mind
Running around and around
Making me psychedelic
When will they stop?
When will my eardrums pop?
When will they stop?
I want to end it, make it stop,
Is this the only way?
Having the blood on my hands?
The hands that stain my mouth
with blood as they stifle my screams.
~=°•°=~
YOU ARE READING
Poem Addiction
Poetry"A poet's greatest strength is his words; his greatest weakness is his emotions; his greatest addiction is his paper that is the world he lives in." -Eskay Kitz-
