Your Poetry Dot Com - Wicked Game

In a daze and lost
think I found my way
conflicting thoughts continue to swirl
need to be careful of what I say

from hollow eyes a teardrop falls
as I reminisce
if I knew then what I know now
I would have never fallen for the bliss

unfinished sentences make me manic
can not seem to sleep
who is ever thrilling her
is killing me

my hands made of clay are melting
resistance to the indulgence is useless
can not caress my crucifix
fading life force drips

I am addicted to the pain
it is a wicked game
unresolved conflicts intoxicate me with frustration
it is dangerous
because I am getting use to it.

This poem is Copyright © unknown_utopia