PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

closed,

locked,

from the inside



swallowed into the dark abyss



i can still hear them,

the voices of death,



screaming



where lies and obsession feeds

the hole digs deeper



in which lies a hunger for something

deeper than food



where numbers control my freedom



and i still float

with porcelain gods

into caloric dreams



they

all

float

down

here..



decay,

like my body



from the inside



and if, for you

i could relinquish the feeling



i would tell you how it feels



to taste death



but i am forbid to tell

the secrets



of my prison

house..