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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1588095
Hints of insanity, a mind split between themselves and their depressed persona.
Alone. But I have
myself, my thoughts - me
Just five minutes deep
pure inside my anatomy

How I wish it ends,
is this insanity? Vain,
dirt that poisons my words
Spins my actions. Tame.

Obeying more than being,
Seeing more than making.
I can choose, but cannot
without her endless taking.

I can no longer hurt you
Limited but still you blame
me? No one can argue. Corrupt -
We're never being the same.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1588095-Corrupt