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Dismal Nothing
May 26, 2013
You're screaming:
the air escaping your lungs,
the veins in you neck
violently extruding through your skin,
your face the color of crimson
You begin to hold yourself
as if letting go
would shatter you into millions of microscopic glass pieces
You're still screaming:
a war between all your inner demons is waging on,
right inside of your mind,
the fragility of it becoming
an enticing playground to the monsters
you're screaming,
you're crying,
you're breaking,
you're gone
© Karen S., Norwalk, CT
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