Footsteps...that are not there.
Breathing...that does not exist.
Voices...that are my imagination.
Shadows...representing the unkown.
Fear, rippling through my body like a wave
A strong current of intense paranoia
That slowliy works its way to my heart
Stopping it
Constricted throat, nver-blinking eyes, clenched hands
All signs of fear
Yet there is nothing
Why
Am
I
So
Scared?
Paraonia holds my mind, my heart, my soul
In an intense, steel grip
Until I completely lose it
Giving in
To my
Paranoia
YOU ARE READING
Late at Night- A Poetry Collection
PoetryWhen it's late at night, the dark everywhere, my mind runs faster, and poetry comes out. Here it is.
