The person in the mirror is me,
Looking much less like myself.
Shaking, bruised and deprived of sleep,
Wishing I could be somewhere else.
Looking much less like myself,
Needing to escape this torture.
Wishing I could be somewhere else,
Numb, as I sink into the water.
Needing to escape this torture,
Shaking, bruised and deprived of sleep;
Numb, as I sink into the water.
The person in the mirror was me.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Poetry Vol. I
PoetryA collection of previous poetry written by me, left the way it was when I discovered it. There are no specific genres or forms to these.
