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There's a pulling on my being
a tugging that's unyielding
worry crawling to my heart
a feeling not stopping
a Dictator ready to march
until it conquers all
leaving nothing untouched
a war within myself
a victory not meant for me
Slow breathing can not help
nor reassuring thoughts
only Death can be my savior
from insanity and loss
the pulling is always there
the scraping crawling will not stop
the battle rages
and this feeling continues on

Views: 10

Comment by Kay Elizabeth on October 14, 2009 at 7:53pm
Viviana, apologies for my slow reply to this. I missed it.

Your poem has a real sense of urgency to it, almost like a heavy thudding heartbeat booming behind them. Good job! I like it. :)
Comment by Viviana Arteaga on October 22, 2009 at 9:21am
lol No thats ok. Im just happy that you liked it.

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