can you feel the repetition in the air
we play the same games
like an axe to wood, hitting the same place even harder than the last.
She crosses her arms and drinks the ocean in one gulp.
the wind of the four corners keep her hair nice and tustled.
it's not survival of the fittest
it's you are still alive
relish in that if you can't do anything else
maybe you do want to die
maybe you wanna go into a cave and wait for starvation and drought to kill you off
or maybe you go to the highest mountain top and scream bloody murder for you and all those who came before.
you need to let a little go before you can take in the new
you need to put something away so that there's enough space to marvel,
to daydream and find happiness amongst smiles you see
tell me darling did it hurt
did it hurt when you reloaded the words and spat them like bullets
i find gunman are harder to kill when they only speak the truth
that's why it's so fatal
YOU ARE READING
Hysterical letters to my sanity
Poetrya collection of poems inspired by stories I've read, people I've met and paths I've crossed, read and enjoy yourself:)
