I need a medically induced coma. I need pills I can swallow easily. My mouth is dry and my body is constricted. I still feel their oval shapes taking up space in my throat. Everyone told me it wasn't my job, but it always felt like the only career calling to me- I don't see anything in my future past five years. I am nothing but a messenger- a self proclaimed author. I am penning letters 6 days ahead of warning the next girl of the war but I have nothing but an invisible bag of trauma to prove my credibility.
YOU ARE READING
Blue Eyes and Other Sources of Drowning
PoesíaFor the boy with blue eyes. For the love and friendship I grieved, and many other things. Started: 11/20/20 Finished: 8/8/22 My 8th poetry book.
