My words often flow like a boundless river.
But on occasion, a dam halts the stream.
I wish to speak but the words stay put.
Its a silence like in a dream.
I do not choose these moments.
When I wish the words would flow again,
when I wish that I could scream.
Its a state of painful inability to tell you what I need.
Im often forced out of this funk by someone who means it well.
But they fail to understand the things that I fail to tell.
You see I wish to speak the truth.
But not to speak it, within the presence of you.
-Oliver
5/21
YOU ARE READING
Vent Poetry
PoetryJust some depressed(not all are) poetry that I wrote, some recent some not, but there isn't a lot, I probably wont update this a lot bcs I only write poetry when I have a breakdown and that's like once or twice a year, but enjoy!
