Here I am.
In the middle of the ocean.
I'm beneath the waves I stand.
The salt water is like potion.
The cold water.
Is getting stronger.
As I get sunken in.
When the chemicals caress my skin.
As your telling me your sins.
How you're dead.
How you've bled.
The way you cut your hands.
The pain is so powerful it hurts so much you stand.
You shed a few tears.
You scream out all your fears.
You're confused how the waves pulled you away.
How they made you one of them, how they made you stay.
How they convinced you to harm yourself.
That they put you on their highest shelf.
I'm getting convinced.
Here I take my stand.
And I start messing with my hands.
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Author:
TheWritingInstrument (
Offline) - Published: August 30th, 2016 09:58
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 46
Offline)
Comments2
The human hand ANGEL is one of the most beautiful and yet one of the most powerful and dangerous weapons we possess. It can stroke a baby or throttle an adult. You can pleasure a friend or knock them out. You can pleasure yourself or harm yourself. You can stroke a kitten or throttle a turkey. How we seour hands and fingers is our own choice ~ will you use your hands in a positive or negative way today ? Thanks for sharing ~ BRIAN. Please check my latest poem LIGHT A CANDLE ~ Thanks
Great write
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