Chaos

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Racing thoughts, slow speech
Beating heart, quiet screech,
Nails digging into her skin
Hands tearing apart her scalp
Tears staining her cheeks
Blood staining her wrists
What more was there to feel?
She wrote millions of letters
None of them making sense
She walked thousands of miles
Without feeling any pain
Was it because she was drained?
With thoughts that were too lame.
There was pain, it's true.
With wounds and bruises too.
But the scars were all that mattered
And the wounds were left scattered
A soul was left alone
When all she wanted was a home
She is in chaos, it's true.
But the one keeping her there, is YOU.

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