Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
So tired
So sad
Feeling it all slip away from my grasp
Dull eyes
Fake smile
Hoping that this emptiness will either disappear or consume me
Poisoned lungs
Trembling hands
Fearing for the time bomb to go off
Hopefully heart
Naive dreams
Waiting for the light at the end of the road
I sometimes wonder
If he knows what he does to me
If he's aware of how I feel
When he stabs my heart with his harsh words
So uncaring
So poisonous
I sometimes wonder
If he knows he's the source of the coldness
That is making it's way through my heart
Christina Dec 2014
it’s like
the clock is still working
but the gears are no longer turning

i’m burning up on empty


no longer capable of containing
contemplations too volatile
for proper taming,
and so i’m just… resting.

a dormant chamber of magma
underneath the bedrock is often
due for massive explosion
but i never liked being out of control
and the last thing i need are
for my insides to get torn open.
a tree bearing great fruits
brilliantly disguised to hide its
reckless disharmonious motion.

That is fear speaking.

Avoiding the waves because
what follows next is spinning
down through the vortex**
violently into uncharted oceans.

— The End —