.... Worst Enemy

Turing on yourself.

The pain in my chest keeps growing,

as the smoke fills my lungs,

it never wants to let go of me,

and long after the butt sits in its tray,

I'm not as strong as I'd like to be,

because the darkness never,

never ever goes away.

Waiting for a clear breath to set me free

in world where I suffocate day to day,

I was counting on oh so much more,

I didn't ever think that I would be drowning,

in a room where I could still breath.

If you ever felt compelled to ask me why,

I'd say to keep the world from falling down on me,

but the world seems small when your lungs are always dry.

Coughing up blood never leaves me quite satisfied,

and I'll never forget what I did to me.

Asking myself why the hell I lied.

It's a cold day when yourself is the enemy.

Author's Note

tell me what you think

Reviews

[just is]

Emotional, and very well written, like this.

[Kaotic Barbie]

This is very deep and emotional. You write and word this poem very well. I love reading things that come from the heart, which i can feel from reading it that this def. did. Great job on this.