My sky

My sky crackles and I feel most alone,

What was once my special place is now not so; 

I was young, naive and couldn't have known,

That my mind was always like this long ago.

Oh the sickening smell of fresh-fallen rain,

Still very much lingers crisp in my mind,

In which it leaves a permanent mark, a bloodstain,

That can really make me feel very confined.

But sometimes when the chilly wind starts to howl,

My mind breaks and everything falls apart;

My head starts pounding like a murder so foul,

And, f**k! Something is racing, my bleeding heart.

When the lightening comes, I know I can't do it,

The thoughts take over and I want to cry;

This is when I want to die, for I am a misfit,

But I refuse to say my final goodbyes.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Sounds like depression, maybe generalized anxiety disorder. Hope this isn't autobiographical.

[aj milton]

Powerful imagery in these words. And for some reason the style reminds me of some of Catullus' poems, if you don't mind me making a comparison across two millenia