I wonder if
(Get these thoughts out of my head)
I think endlessly
(My worst nightmare)
Maybe I lost myself too deeply
to reach out towards anything that could plague me.
(They scratch my hands.
Don't
Touch
me)
If it will help me
I don't want it.
Don't let it save me.
I want my own demise.
I will destroy myself,
Not anything else.
Maybe that's why they say I'm sick,
My pride is twisted
And too hard to swallow,
So it must be spit.
YOU ARE READING
Somnolence - III *Editing*
PoetryLet me tell you, Why I can't sleep at night. From Faded feelings and Empty Thoughts, came a deep somnolence .. where I desired to rest for an eternity. | book is probably completed for now, even though I don't want to let go | Editing slowly
