A hole.
A deep hole, full of salty tears.
Drowing.
Deeper and deeper,
Oxygen escapes, and gasps intake full breaths of suffocating water.
A dream.
Peaceful death.
How sick it might be, yet how serene.
Several times,
This sick, psychotic, feeling makes me feel powerful.
Ill.
Help?
Joke.
I close my eyes while I steer this car,
encompassing my shell of a body- my soul is detached.
Each, single, telephone pole,
Imagining being beautifully wrapped around it.
Crimson colors shed across my fucked up mind.
Peaceful, Anxiety stricken, Depression.
Yet, only for a few things.
Because my Part 2
Is my lifesaver.
No comments:
Post a Comment