Wednesday, 19 April 2017

Where do i belong?

Fuck! she shouted loud at the peak of voice,
Her hand weaving hard and rough through her long messed hair,
She beat her head hard.
And everything near her was a ball.
She was deafen, even the noisiest truck was silent to her.
but all she could feel was rumbling thoughts running wild,
Grief rooting inside all part.

Slowly she sat down heavily on the chair,
Puffing like the chimney in the name of heavy breath,
Catching a glass of drink with hope to fill up her void.
But nothing did sooth.
Instead, fear like emotions keep volcanic.

Fuck, holy mother of god,
She broke a bottle with winning worries,
and hand injured, she painted wall with red blood,
where do i belong?