#losingmysanity
My thoughts are like a wreath
of rising smoke,
an incessant patter
of the chattering rain.
Ascending slowly, they snare me
into their steely grip
choke my throat steady
with a hand of silk
until
I can feel, and breathe
no more.
Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 3:31 AM UTC