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The Jokes on me, you say,
As I peer into the mirror, mouth open,
Looking like The Scream,
Scared and inhuman.

The blisters throb from deep throating,
And angry gag stabbing, vomiting
Because I’m too scared not to.

I reach out for you, some reassurance,
Because this life I carved is rotten,
And these bones are rattling
For freedom.

Good Enough. That’s all I need.
But still I’m met with silence.
©2009 ~Miana89
:iconmiana89:

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June 30
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