Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click hereInside a room, inside your head,
You hide a bit of nakedness,
Your window shade of innocence,
Has been torn down to watch you undress,
Now there's a place within your brain,
It tells you that you must refrain,
From thinking thoughts or feeling pain,
Instead you let it all decay,
You're pretty sure your heart is hung,
Swinging somewhere near your lungs,
Sometimes it bounces off the side,
You lose your breath when they collide,
Years ago your friends were plenty,
Where there were hundreds now there are twenty,
Ten that never call you back,
Five that talk behind your back,
None that think you're very witty,
Four aren't friends if not for pity,
There's still one friend you've left to call,
The one you hate most of all,
The one that stabs you in the back,
That tells you all the things you lack,
The one that kicks you when you're down,
And will see to it, you stay down,
The friend that makes you feel like hell,
Is none other than your self
But I think the rhymes got in the way. Poems don't have to rhyme. They just need to provoke enticing visions.