When time draws out like a
dagger from its sheath,
it's ready to find another victim.
Silent like the night.
Roaring like thunder.
Hands tattooed with blood and
memories.
Every tick and tock is a requiem knell.
It hides with us-- silent and unseen
like a monster in the closet.
Every blink and footstep could spell
the end for anyone and everyone.
When the bell tolls,
who knows what will be there
waiting for us?
Maybe the scariest thing is being alone.
It's easier to be alone when you're alive.
No worries about your blood
staining the ground below.
Yet when our blood is shed,
we don't see it fall for sure.
Blood dries into the cement or is washed away.
Scrubbed away and forgotten.
Lost in memories and brought back
into the light by the darkness we
force ourselves to forget and deny.
But that darkness is a constant;
the worst kind of companion.
No sense and no reason can help,
so begrudging acceptance it is.
YOU ARE READING
Caffeine and Me
PoetryA collection of poetry ranging from brain farts to exploring why I bother getting up in the morning. Most likely there is some form of caffeine to keep me awake (or alert) enough to type my thoughts out regarding my depression, struggles within my d...
