in a mad house i shoo my heart away
i don’t know why i stay
in the hope that you will feel
or think in your head to
need me
the yellow of the walls
suffocates me; I get held
down against my will
but it is not yellow
it is dimness and fear
i see a tender brook out
of my third eye window
and the idea that i could
be free is unsettling
for letting you go
means being without
in my head i look into
my eyes and i see empty
inky dread such a quick sand terror
in the night where did you go
from me
madness at all hours
stuns me; soothes me; makes me weep
cruelty beyond all naturalness
of human spirit
the cell is silent
the day is come
the brook is muddy
Rather painful.
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Thanks for reading, Fleur ✌❤
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Most welcome 🙂
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