Here it comes
Swift as a poisoned arrow
Embedding itself deep into my heart
Terror
I have nothing to fight for
No animalistic need to stay alive
Because everything is handed to me
But the fear is crippling
The dread and horror of the future
A future I hope I survive
The storybooks don't prepare you
The soothing of soft hands don't protect
Against my doubt and turmoil
I wish I could run
Run until all answers are provided and counted
And I can smooth everything out with well fed hands
Yet my fingers are thin and calloused
Not from work but from worry
The product of a hunched sense of retreat
Here it comes
Swift as an arrow
Embedding itself deep into my heart
Terror
**Sorry for not posting! Ash**
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ReplyDeleteI like it :)
Ohai....thanks :3
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