Anxiety lounges around in my brain,
I'll wash these tears down the drain,
Hop on the next train,
fall asleep on the bench while these benzos kick in wondering if this is what
bleeding out would feel like.
My mind goes numb,
an empty feeling I succumb to,
a shell of a pearl that's lost it's value.
A blank sheet of paper no one's written on yet,
insignificant.
I am not a diamond to be cut,
polished and displayed
but
more of a watercolored painting that's been left out in the rain
so long that no one can tell what the painting was of
in the first place.
I am not a product of the God we all think of,
"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions"
but I am not Heaven's making.
So I'll rest my eyes,
go to sleep and
Pray the Lord my soul to Keep.
YOU ARE READING
For You
ПоэзияThis is for you. If you're seeing this, I hope you read it. A collection of my poetry. Ongoing.
