Everything is cold -
from my skin
to my bones,
from the air
to the ground.
I break them
each time
I fall.
Every time
I go under,
drowning,
at some point -
the cold breathes
life
into my aching lungs.
Part of me
wants to know
what it's like
to burn,
to feel anything
other
than numbness
or coughing up
what could've been
something
more.
if you're born to be hung, you will never drown
YOU ARE READING
Titles are Overrated
PoetryThis is the equivalent of Notes app on your phone, so yeah, exposing myself. I guess it's considered poetry. Enjoy. :)
