Every day is a concussion,
where I feel that
my thoughts are suffering
from blunt force trauma.
Slumped within the confines
of self..
Blood vessels burst in a rainbow
of fluctuation and I think
was it all worth it.
Should I have let that last thought
haemorrhage.
Instead of getting up again and again...
Realising that after the first reaction I should
have stayed down ,Succumbing to the
eventuality.
That I could be what I wanted, what I thought
I could become. I was like a flower,
Dying before it blossomed..
And all that was left
was dead memories
crushed before they could even show
there beauty.
Now just wilted dreams becoming nightmares.
