I can't come down from this tower,
I'm held here by a curse's power.
I just stare at the stars in the midnight hour,
But I long for the ground, to touch a flower.
I struggle to eat, can barely drink,
I crack open a book, drown in ink.
But it's clear to me that I'm on the brink:
Of sadness.
I can't get out of bed, or in the shower,
I'm held here by my own self's power.
I stare at the ceiling until an ungodly hour,
My mind beginning to wilt like a dying flower.
My confidence and my heart begin to shrink,
But growing still are the ***** plates in the sink.
I continue to breathe, but I am on the brink
Of madness.
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 3:21 AM UTC
I can't come down from this tower,
I'm held here by a curse's power.
I just stare at the stars in the midnight hour,
But I long for the ground, to touch a flower.
I struggle to eat, can barely drink,
I crack open a book, drown in ink.
But it's clear to me that I'm on the brink:
Of sadness.
I can't get out of bed, or in the shower,
I'm held here by my own self's power.
I stare at the ceiling until an ungodly hour,
My mind beginning to wilt like a dying flower.
My confidence and my heart begin to shrink,
But growing still are the ***** plates in the sink.
I continue to breathe, but I am on the brink
Of madness.
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