Your mind holds jumbled pieces
of every thought you'd tried to shape
just so that they fit those empty spaces
of all the memories you tried to escape.
It's the mess that forms up there
leaves your sight all blurred and black
and everytime you get up to walk
it's a return to the same place you'd left back.
So when you try to sort through the mess
it's surprising how there's nothing in sight
because a mind filled with happiness
would never feel heavy at
n i g h t
.
..........
Does this make sense? I hope it does.
Thanks for all the love🍂 Stay happy🧡
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•WITHERING AUTUMN
Poetry•POETRY 'And I wither down to death just like the autumn leaves' ©maybeanerror 2021
