Home » Poems » Shabana Hunte » Glass Box

Glass Box

I cut but I heal
I'm tired of "feels"
I cling to the past 
While my future's revealed 

I cant close my eyes 
With my demons awake 
So I sleep with one open 
And one in my grave 

Its crazy I mean 
Just how fast time will fly 
Was never this different 
Was never this wild 

I'm use to the pain 
If it helps I'll regain 
All that was lost 
Overtime and in vain

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Caren Krutsinger

Date: 4/8/2018 9:17:00 PM

They are ALL still around, Marc. I can tell by the rest of your poem, you know this in your heart.

Caren Krutsinger

Date: 4/8/2018 9:13:00 PM

Oh, boy, here we go! Manic depression is what jumped into my mind, and I've been in manic mode since the sleep stopped.