Lord hear my prayer



I wear you upon my wrist to forsake myself. Days and nights like these the simplest tasks are so hard to endure. This plague engulfs my being. more and more it feeds. The demons won’t sleep for they are restless. My head feels as if it’s going to explode. My mouth full of words I cannot speak. Choking on my spit. My eyes bleed and I can no longer see. I want out. I want this to end. Do not spare me please.

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Published by: her mourning coffee

Walking a fine line between genius and insanity. My words are raw, sometimes visceral, and vulgar.  I write to settle my thoughts.  I have triggers that extract emotional immaturity, deep- rooted fears, anger, insecurity, vulnerability, yet I heal with every stroke of the pen.  I might be that monster.  I sometimes scare myself.  Please keep this in mind as you read.  I do not wish to provoke you, though stories need to be told. *not all posts are in real time

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