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i'm sick,
sick of standing still,
withering down with the wind,
it howls so loud,
wandering inside me,
it stings,
when it reaches my achilles' heel,
that's when it hurts the most,
to know how vulnerable i am,
in this catastrophic storm,
it shrieks,
you're not trying enough!
i yell back,
it is never ever enough,
i breathe in the wind once again,
it's apocalyptic,
i breathe in the wind again,
it stings,
but i breathe nonetheless.
YOU ARE READING
names can be deceitful
Poetryits a mess. this whole book is a mess. if u like mess, click on 📖start reading <3 i'd appreciate it #24 poembook #29 poetry #76 poem #19 thoughtsandfeelings
