still.

Fri, 08/28/2015 - 18:02 -- ktrose

Still, breathing, not a sound
Inert in my bed, lying paralyzed.
You shook me, crying "wake up, wake up!"
But it was too late.

I was indeed conscious but

nothing could wake me

from the tyranny of my mind.


Please don't be mad,
just let me lie here.

This poem is about: 
Me

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