I don't have to rhyme, that's not my bag.
I don't have to have rhythm or turn of a phrase.
I am raw skin rubbed too long against something unyielding.
I am the unyielding.
I am the forbidden, the whispers at midnight-
the taboo, the outcast, the lone rider.
I slide through the shadows on sure foot-
stomping but never to touch the ground.
I am ephemeral, eternal, infernal.
I go bump in the night.
I will be your end with consequentially
will be my new beginning.
About the Creator
Harlie Wood
Early 30's woman, married with mental health issues. Grammar Stickler, Bird Lady, doesn't play well with others, Neverneverland Runaway.
Keep reading
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It's All in Your Head
For years, I heard, “it’s all in your head,” and “mind over matter,” or even worse, “just get over it.” While there is a grain of truth to that, I am sick of “all in your head” being used as a derogatory term for a real, valid health condition. It is time to break the stigma on mental health issues.
By Harlie Wood6 years ago in Psyche
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