I watch the people on the streets.
They pass me by sometimes.
I watch them through this tattered sheet
that serves as my disguise.
I watch because I cannot meet
those who live outside the lines.
I watch them all in complete defeat
because those boundaries set are mine.
YOU ARE READING
Ghostwriter
PoetryLiving with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams, fears, wishes, and regrets all compile together to create a new world far from the one we physically exist in. At times, it becomes easy t...
