*white Shirt Poem by angel lockheart

Coldness creeping in,
As darkness clouds my eyes,
My hands start to shake,
Stilled only by nails digging into me.
These frigid thoughts of isolation,
Rebound inside my head,
My body curls up, wanting to hide,
As my blood turns bitter with dread.
Teeth bite into my quivering lips,
I can’t even tell they are mine,
Sinking in deeper and deeper,
To stop this tell tale sign.
The pounding inside my head,
Turns into the evilest laughter,
At myself and who I am,
A ghost alive from the dead.
I make people laugh,
I always have a smile,
And they enjoy how happy I am,
But if I were to die,
I don’t really think,
That they’d even remember who I am.
The thin white shirt,
That covers my skin,
Will tell the tale even after,
Of what I will choose in the next 5 seconds,
To stain with tears,
Or to mix them with chrisom.