Her tears would trickle silently,
And in the darkness pilgrims travelled
To gather round, and whisper, see,
The girl whose mind they had unravelled.
Implanting thoughts into the vault
That once remained so pure and bright,
She came to know it was her fault.
She came to know that they were right.
On insecurities they'd pray,
Her defences they would shred.
And through the shadows they would play,
Just to fill her up with dread.
With every muster that she can,
She takes one last citalopram.
-
Author:
JWoods (
Offline) - Published: December 9th, 2016 04:06
- Category: Sad
- Views: 26
Offline)
Comments2
Great write
Bounce and rhythm are what I like to see. Top notch. : )
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