Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2016
Be it white tile, hard wood or polyester mat
I can't help but stare at it a second too long
It's calling me
I just want to collapse into the floor
To sink down as low as I possibly can go
And to let my limbs go, to not have to get up
Would you see then that it's all a pretense?

The floor is to death as depression is to life
Amethyst Fyre
Written by
Amethyst Fyre  Earth
(Earth)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems