🦋

But he sits with himself at 4am

When the sun can’t rise

& the moon on the opposite side

A perfect dark for thoughts

He then visits the no light corners

The hidden storms in his mind

The bloody rivers of hope

The dying dreamland

The withering lilies of love

The thoughts of ending his life

“Would it be?…

Would it be the worst thing if I died?…

Would it be possible to survive?”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s