Poetry, Quill


Are we trapped inside our own mind?

Clueless and naïve as we feel

Scared and scarred as we heal

Just we wait to be reunited with our doom

My hands are cold and my mind listless

Waiting for this admonition to pass by

Am I my own worst enemy

Breaking down my nerve

Sulking as it hurts.

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Brevity, Quill


It hurts…….

Hurts where no one should touch me

As I turn to stone

And stare at the wall in my room

Grey and somber

And a clock ticks in my head

Waiting for it to be over.