Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2018
Sometimes I feel like I’m holding onto a rail above a black hole.

A black hole of insecurities and harsh words; a slippery rail of half friendships and broken relationships.

But I hold on. And the longer I do, the more the rail bends. The more the rail breaks.

So I wonder how long will it take to just snap.
Written by
Shanne  16/F
(16/F)   
  242
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems