With every look and stare with every loud sound, I grow smaller and smaller.
I grow smaller and more vulnerable.
Those instincts resurface, and that slow breathing returns.
The predator is here, I need to survive.
What can I do to make myself unseen, please I want to hide.
Try not to bring attention to yourself and remain absolutely quiet.
Shush… he's here
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Author:
mokay_ (
Offline) - Published: March 28th, 2023 09:49
- Comment from author about the poem: A free-style vent on childhood mental abuse that finds its way to resurfacing
- Category: Sad
- Views: 9
Offline)
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