I can feel it in my breath.
In my arms
In my eyes.
I can feel in my throat.
In my legs.
In my hands.
I can feel it everywhere.
My stomach
And thighs.
Twitches.
My mind closing in.
Its my medicine.
Defective.
YOU ARE READING
My war.
PoetryI have been diagnosed, ripped apart, shot down, kicked around. But ill be on broadway. Even if i have to buy a street, name it broadway and perform. In all seriousness, instead of sleeping forever, i wrote out my war.
