my words are more powerful than me
it scares me how much i can express on a single sheet
pacing back and forth, my mind runs on high speed
the amount of mixed feelings that i could express
i instead inhale the smoke that could end me in seconds
my words used to slur, i always collapsed
if my past me could see me, she'd cry out "please rest"
my wrist no longer hurt, i threw away my easy access
eating is still hard...
i still second guess my chances
it's when it's late at night i see my true reflection
YOU ARE READING
Way Too Much, Seriously...
PoesíaHi, my name is Bree and this is my first project I worked on for some months with the help of my lovely therapist. A collection of 1am poems written during a time where everything felt suffocating and unbearable. Creating this was tough, but I knew...
