deepundergroundpoetry.com
Slipping
I feel my mind slipping. The bad thoughts aren't just peeking back in, they are roaring. I've already planned how I want to go. What I want with me when I die. The last thing I will say to her. Everything down to what I'll wear. Just waiting for the right day. The perfect day.
Published 14th May 2016
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14th May 2016 8:55pm
