Even the blades of grass,
Torment my toes.
Before my hollowed eyes,
An ebony rose.
Inside my sunken fist,
A clump of my hair,
Yet there’s no where to run,
From those consuming stares.
I’d sink inside my soul,
If I could stomach my own heart.
I’d hide away beneath my skin,
But I’d never know where to start.
It contorts.
It burns freely in my shattered thoughts.
It consumes.
This depression.
Its there.
A different person,
A million voices.
Each with a different glare.
Around each corner,
On a different wall.
A different mirror,
And further I fall.
It’s drowning me,
Drawing me in.
Blooming…
As the wonderland fades…
Well.
Don’t you see?
The looking glass,
It’s broken.
…
I need critisim, but be nice :)
My first poem really.
So tell me what you think..
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