with the restless companies in her mind.
Thoughts that refuse to be silent
screaming to be heard
like the ear-splitting screeching sound
of nails scratching on pristine surfaces,
leaving deep ugly marks
that would scar over
and bleed out through clenched teeth,
spewing out words
as black as the city’s hidden corners
where fear and hate –
children of pain lie waiting
in the gutter of her soul.
(Picture was taken from Pinterest. Artist unknown.)