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May 2017
I awake with the dripping anxiety of death
It's puppetry crafting my fears with its laced strings
Making me do the dance of regret and guilt
The darkness consumes me as I writhe with the agonising realisation

I am not alone
I am going to die
I see my tombstone
I see my soul starting to fly

But why?


That night when the moonlights silver ribbons danced across the darkest ocean.
His face dripping with the crimson liquid that shows the sign of life
Sirens echoed as red and blue flashed into the night.
It was my fault.
It's always my fault


He died because of me
And now I can't see

I can't sleep
I can't breathe
Save me... please
Save me from this nightmare
When an innocent mistake takes a life, the narrator was struck with guilt and accidental blood on their hands.

One of my favourite poems for the descriptive writing is some of my best for the time
Lexi Greenwood
Written by
Lexi Greenwood  15/F/England
(15/F/England)   
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