My Journey

 I can feel my broken heart beating,
 I can’t help this fucked up feeling of despair.

 Wind blowing, smelling the beautiful air,
 Can’t erase your image, your graceful stare.

 When I feel lonely, I hide deep in my chamber,
 Doors and windows closed and locked,
 With no one holding the key, but me. 

 I wish I can make a copy,
 So that you can visit me.
 
 Hidden from the world,
 Holding on tight to my fragile mind,
 With my body curled.

 If only I could show you my heart,
 To bring you closer, closer to my start,
 Where my lonely story began. 

Published by Beipher

I have been writing poetry since a teenager but did not have the courage to really show it off. It wasn't until I had some tools as I battled depression and mental illness. They are still a part of me, which you will see for yourself. My writing is dark and raw.

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