Victoria Springate

15th of July - Denmark

Hiccups

Imagine a flower field I get told
That phrase is starting to get old
I try to fit into society’s mould
But my thoughts are too bold
My mind is too cold
It’s similar to decapitation like I got sold

A song is played in my head
Brings a little joy to my mental spiderweb
To the light, I am led
I see the flower field as said
I lay on my bed
Then reminded that my hope is dead

My mind is empty yet it’s filled up
Filled with panic, thoughts, just a lot
No rationality just burning hot
It comes out of nowhere like a quick cut
I’m sitting alone to rot
Just my thoughts fired like a shot
Then the end comes it’s a period like a dot

It’s more of a comma, still sick
My mind is less frantic
For a while, it’s quick
I guide my life with a will that’s not very thick
Then it breaks like a thin stick
Then it comes back, the cutting kick
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