#WritcoPoemPrompt37
In the quietest part of the night,
When you hover between dark and light,
Wondering if you can float away on dreams,
Hoping they won't turn into screams...

madness attached to magic.
why is my creativity fueled by pain?
testing my own limits to see what will remain.
casually fracturing such a fragile essence.
what was i made for?...
shallow depths of tears flowing from the years of collected bottled messages.
the oceans of my existence seem to have drowned.
now my overthinking mind is stuck here in the present.

why do i think that is a bad thing?

© Joshua Leyva