Coldness creeping in, <br />As darkness clouds my eyes, <br />My hands start to shake, <br />Stilled only by nails digging into me. <br />These frigid thoughts of isolation, <br />Rebound inside my head, <br />My body curls up, wanting to hide, <br />As my blood turns bitter with dread. <br />Teeth bite into my quivering lips, <br />I can’t even tell they are mine, <br />Sinking in deeper and deeper, <br />To stop this tell tale sign. <br />The pounding inside my head, <br />Turns into the evilest laughter, <br />At myself and who I am, <br />A ghost alive from the dead. <br />I make people laugh, <br />I always have a smile, <br />And they enjoy how happy I am, <br />But if I were to die, <br />I don’t really think, <br />That they’d even remember who I am. <br />The thin white shirt, <br />That covers my skin, <br />Will tell the tale even after, <br />Of what I will choose in the next 5 seconds, <br />To stain with tears, <br />Or to mix them with chrisom.<br /><br />angel lockheart<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/white-shirt/
