I hear voices in my head
I believe fairies dwell in flower beds
The night is a mystery and not my friend
For I see things at every corner and end
I cry for four days a week
Because of blame and sorrow my heart can’t keep
My dreams, like everyone else, have gone
Because they too are tired to go on
I don’t believe I belong
Life has been singing that to me like a song
I am a poet, but to everyone my poems appear
To be of sadness, yearn, insecurity, and fear
There’s a new voice in my head
That says I’d rather be better off as dead
But since I’m still present
And death may seem […]