Thoughts (June 2017)

This house is a prison.
I sit in the dark and wait for them to
Come to me through the shadows.
They whisper in my ear,
Invading my thoughts.
They reach out with their long,
Thin fingers,
Clasping around my neck.
I’m gasping for air.
But I let them consume me.
I let them cut into my veins
And tear open my soul.
There’s no use fighting them anymore.
They never sleep.
They follow me during the day wherever I
My soul is screaming
But I am powerless to make them leave.
Their whispers become louder with each
As a matter of fact,
They’re whispering to me now.


Author: Kar

made of either stardust or dirt.

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