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Poetic Firestorm

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It’s a firestorm  
that rages… and whirls… within my body,  
that no hand of sanity can smother.  

My innards burn,  
my blood boils,  
the flesh upon me bubbles.  
 
Sane, as I may have been before,  
the virtues that encased this body with innocence  
has long but burned away.

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    1 COMMENT

    1. Let it out, Daniel.
      Purge. Your words are healing. For yourself and for those who read you.
      Stay strong, my friend. I know you don’t feel strong, but you are. You’re here.

      Holding you in thought.

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