I drain my thoughts through my pen. That's the only way I breathe.
The fire in my chest These migraines in my head I asked them to leave, but to my plea , they turned deaf So I sleep , hoping that I would wake up tommorow, not dead
By Harydo Neon6 years ago in Poets
Losing sight of what matters the most A singular thought that haunts me, like ghosts I am trying to talk, words hung on my throat
There is always time A time to feel A time to speak A time to feel non of this was acrime A time to fall so hard to the ground
Sorry for how we had to end Sorry for all the pains I made to trend Sorry for making you cry on the weekends Sorry for not being that which you wanted for forever, damn
How he got here, to him, is a mystery He could go out, he has got the keys He could just walk up and leave The moment he tries, his will becomes stiff
Why are you sweating? Are you scared of me? You knew this day was coming, weren't you preparing? Sent me out of Mount Olympus like you didn't care about me?
Back into my house, keys in, opened the door Fear hugged and was happy that I had returned Insecurity cooked a meal and fed me
And so the real identity revealed The new age of identity theft policed Oh! If stupidity was a person, it would have been him
I wake up, bathe and trying to dress up Waving my hands against my steamed mirror Wondering about what today may have in its hands
Not black, not white Grey perhaps I hide inside my shell While forcing other to come out of theirs I talk about the beauty of love
It is so strange, isn't it? This puzzle called love But then comes the soft spots A place where everything goes dark A breathless position
Sunrise smears its rays on my eyes Big guy expects our daily appointment Missed, while I check my phone, checking ties Checking texts, going downstairs, missing self contentment
