Deep-diving into the culprits of my self-deprecation, "Discount Shakespeare" showcases all 50 of my poems, originally posted on Twitter, which I had written from my high school years to this day (whenever this gets published, I guess).
Teeming with...
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Discount Shakespeare An anthology of musings Poetry by luxsick
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Symptoms of aging
Lately, the child heart in me has been crying nonstop. My tears, my wails, and hours spent sobbing Are longer than what I've gotten used to, And colder than the water that runs Down my bathroom walls. The veins On my hands have also grown bone-dry, As if they're out of blood that streams mad Or pulsing rage that makes me lose my voice. The time I've spent searching for my truths Is unhealthy, with no way out of their shackles, Each one bound to an unwavering dread. Aging, it's like being in a thankless, heartless job That's far from growth spurts and losing body fat. It's an infinite spiral of blazers in the blazing heat. It's the all-too-late realization that you still have Mouths to feed. It's the act of losing yourself, until You're once again found at your humble start. It's the earth-shatteringly silent revelation that, Slowly, your happiness becomes your prison.
