The cold chill freezes my mind,
Letting the voices of memories reverberate
Off the walls of a tainted soul
As they trip over each other,
Fighting for the spotlight.
Some sink into the shadows,
Their purity losing power over the darkness
As others overstay their welcome,
Pleading for time I shouldn't have given,
Leaving me with a guilt that empowers them.
The darkest voices emerge victorious
As the venom twists
Through a battlefield of poisoned memories,
Until even the pure ones
Become tainted too.
YOU ARE READING
Little Nothings
Poetry***STUNNING COVER by @Repulsify, as commissioned through @InkCommunity 's Artlink Station!*** Things speak to us in different ways. For some, it's a small voice in our minds. For others, it's the things around us, weaving words into succession for s...
