Demons at the bottom

I HOLD THE
COLD GLASS
IN MY HANDS
LEANING
FORTH
ON MY
SKULL,
TO COOL

THE
WEARY
HEAD
THAT
CARRIES
THOUGHTS UNPROVOKED.
BUT THE
ANSWER
I FIND NONE,
AT THE END
OF THE BOTTOM

OF THE GLASS,
ONLY THE
VOICES
THAT ECHO,
BOUNCING
BACK,
ASKING

IF I AM
STILL ALIVE.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: