8-30-19
Altered.
State.
Of.
Mind.
No more can I keep up
with this fiendish grind.
I seemed to stumble,
out of reality.
Scars on my wrists
let light into my unscintillating being.
In the blink of an eye,
I had realized my damnation,
I'd be taken to the underworld.
But his presence was amongst me.
A fire to heal
from these scars.
This poem is about:
Me