Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
They say there’s light
At the end of the tunnel
Without knowing
How far the burrow truly goes.
I wouldn’t even call it a tunnel
Because I am not walking, but
F
A
  L
   L
    I
     N
      G
Practically to my death
Gaining speed
Feeling the breeze
It’s getting harder to hold on to everything
Let alone keep my stability
I crumble
In the face of pain
Everything hurts
Wounds stay open
There’s no ground for me to land on
I’m lost in a plummet
So that even if the light is there
It would never
break my fall.
Written by
Phoenix  19/M/Philadelphia PA
(19/M/Philadelphia PA)   
327
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems