The Worms Inside My Head
Eating my thoughts, making my poetry lay silently dead
The Worms Inside My Head
I write with what is left of me
each word a thread of memory
no wires speak these thoughts I keep
they rise from places buried deep
No machine can take my tone
or claim the seeds that I have sown
my voice is mine through night and rain
even with worms inside my brain
They crawl through halls where dreams once slept
they chew the vows my heart had kept
still I will shape what I can say
before the rest is eaten away
Each line is carved in living skin
the hurt without the polished grin
and when my pages all are read
no false hand writes the words I bled
When silence comes to claim my head
and all my living thoughts are dead
they will not rise in code or chain
just rot with worms inside my brain
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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