Finally...
Spitting Out the Demons.
A place where my age does not matter
Simply something that we can not control...
Our weakness is life.
And I, am my very own weakness.
Spitting Out the Demons.
All look a like.
From that one familiar stranger...
The one you know the most,
followed by love.
I pity the fool, for I am the fool.
I am the twelve year old girl who acts in their twenties.
The demons, are my very own self.
For this poem serves no purpose.
For me to only type my thoughts.
Dark inside me...
A small burning flame at the back of my mind.
Surely, I am sane.
Spitting Out the Demons...
I envy you, familiar stranger. |