Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2018
The heaviness on my chest,
the strangled breaths stinking of wafting toxicity,
the bloodstains on my hands
from a ****.
My mind is whirling,
and I wonder
if this is it
if this is insanity distorted past reality
if I am truly lost in this labyrinth of twisted smiles and white lies
if I have finally finally turned myself into a monster.
Zeyea
Written by
Zeyea  13/Gender Fluid/in the schisms of minds
(13/Gender Fluid/in the schisms of minds)   
2.3k
   Cronedrome, Fawn and Pyrrha
Please log in to view and add comments on poems