Falling.
I closed my eyes for less than a minute, tired, ready to fall asleep.
I imagine myself walking on my crutches. Suddenly I fall slightly. And literally flinch.
Grabbing onto my blanket, I jump.
Waking up to be fine. Unhurt or in any pain.
Illusion.
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A Journey Past Our Solar System: Poetry of a Borderline
PoetryA Journey Past Our Solar System is mostly confessional poetry of my life in the few last years, structures of a dysfunctional family, in the middle of dealing with mental illness. A tragedy in the making of my brain turning into coal, ready to burn...
