Progression Poem by anthony sutton
Progression
Eyes always watching. A deafening silence only comparable to insanity and suffocating-
Paranoia.
Bugs crawling in your skin. Scratching away at nothing from feeling everything-
Overwhelmed.
Nothing is real. Head with no thoughts, knowing the future in the present-
Mania.
Everything will inevitably end. A person dies when it's their time-
Exhausted.
It's my time,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/13/2024 1:51:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
