The Look in His Eyes

My veins transform to ice As I turn to face you

So Called Coping

I am not ashamed But I bite my tongue

Not meant as an insult But it still hurts

Mental asylum Voices raise painting the white walls In heinous hi- depth

all alone in this hallow home

The room is familiar Although the faces are not

Sick gnawing feeling Gut churning

Move on a notion Based on a lie

I scream but am not heard

I can't stand watching you doing this to yourself You know better