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Poems
Oct 2019
Scorpion's Sting
Slave to sordid thoughts
governing my well-being,
I am constantly consumed
by chemicals I cannot control.
Consider me a scorpion,
surrounded by fire.
With no options left,
I turn my stinger on myself.
Pierced in the back,
I am my own assailant.
With only meaningless metaphors,
I welcome the scorpion's sting.
Written originally as prose in January 2018.
Written by
HearseTraffic
26/M
(26/M)
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