it's been growing.
accumulating.
forcing me into seclusion.
working quickly.
quietly.
a mercenary
who's claimed fear
as its prize.
it's killed me.
repetitively.
every day.
it made me question
everything.
every word.
every action.
my ability to trust.
i was terrified.
and it eventually pushed me further
down a dark hole of depression.
YOU ARE READING
penny for your thoughts
Poetryit's hard to explain the incomprehensible and overwhelming emotion, and lack of emotion, that I've been bearing for so long on my own. you can't fathom the inability to move, speak, eat, think, or even see clearly in this time of irregularity. all I...
