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Abbigale Dec 2018
My head is a pub

My thoughts, the chain-smokers
Clouding my mind and vision
With fumes of false perception

My emotions, the drunkards
They stagger from one wall to another
Wreak the most havoc

Together, they rage a war with my sanity
Destroying my pub's peace

And there is the blaring music,
sounding from an overhead television
A voice convincing me,
I am rotten to the core
As I sink to the floor
And tears well up my eyes
And my soul melts

I had a meltdown again, Mum...
Late night sad boy hours
**I never actually post here much tbh
Abbigale Nov 2018
Your eyes,
the stars of my constellation
Your words,
the cauldron of my frustrations

— The End —