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Mental Flesh
10 May, 2018
Author: Mental

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As I cut into
My mental flesh
Words ooze out
All new and fresh.
And as I try to write
In my
Moody twilight
I try to navigate
Through the folds
But my emotions hesitate
Snagging on a slipknot, as it holds.
Am i making sense?
Do i even care?
That faraway response
That i can't share.
Showers turn to storms
Storms makes things unsure
And when the sun finally comes out
There is still no cure.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

poison (172.56.4.86) -- Friday, October 18 2019, 03:22 am

To mental

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Name:                                           Remember Me

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