I want release but my body is not ok.
I'm not demanding it write an entire play.
Just please don't be in my way.
Let me touch my fingers to a screen.
Write my letters before I continue to bleed.
I just need to find a way to relieve
Every single part of me.
Where are the poems I thought I knew?
They slip through my fingers then start anew.
My notebook filled with all my truths,
As unfinished as my mood.
I lost the way into my head.
There's so much chaos and I can't connect.
I'm exhausted and I can't rest.
Spent my days rotting away in my bed.
The noise so loud it became silent.
Is this the way my life was meant
To be filled until death relents?
I'm chasing my thoughts to no end.
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten