Sometimes,
I just wanna swear
and kick
something,
anything,
so hard I hear it
break,
and unleash
a beast of my own
into this overridden
world,
feel the sharp edges
of these
words
that are supposed to feel
so, so good,
and raise my
weak
voice
and let it be heard
for once,
let it fill with
red
and black,
not the nice
rainbow
every person
has come to expect
from me
without sparing
a couple seconds
of their own
life
to realize;
Sometimes, I wanna swear.
But I don't.
Because this part of me,
it knows,
I could never
want to swear,
I could never want to
hear
anything more
break,
because
that is not
me,
and that is not
someone
I'd ever want to
be,
and a part of me
is so
grateful
that I don't swear,
that sharp edges
are something
I fear,
something
I hate,
that red and black
are not
as large
a part of me
as that
beautiful rainbow,
and the rest
of me
will deny it,
because
the rest of me
wants to be
someone
I'm not
all
the
time,
but even
the rest of me
knows;
I don't swear.
I don't kick.
I never want to break.
YOU ARE READING
Feathers: A Book of Poetry
PoésieA pencil is the spotlight of a soul. It tells them its okay to overflow. It tells them ideas are art, and that the best ones are masterpieces. Feathers is a collection of poetry by me to convey the beauty and undeniable strife of the world, and emot...
