She sits there
Staring out the window,
Trying
But failing
To breath,
To stop the
Death filled
Tears from falling.
Because everyone around her
Can't imagine
All the demons that
Fill her
And
Haunt her
And
Kill her
Slowly.
No,
She might not seem to
Have a dark side,
Because they can't see
How dead she
Already is.
YOU ARE READING
c a p t i v e
PoetryDon't forget to switch off the lights, I prefer the darkness to that false illumination. Here I can lay, Here I can cry, and here is the place where - each night - I can die.
