In the library, I am stuck.
All the paintings make me so claustrophobic.
My mother is racist, I just want to help.
My friend is selfish, I just want to know.
In the library, I am stuck.
Pluto in the line above makes me so acrophobic.
My friends had suicide while I am away from the sun in our solar system.
My mother is toxic, I still can hear her voice from all the way down in the underworld.
I am sorry mom for being a shitty daughter, I been the greatest, but no excuse for writing books about shit you put me through.
In the library, I am free.
Had sense of having family trauma, hakuna matata.
It is hard to meet genuine people in this day that I don't want to say.
Because like Kevin, it seems like I'm having a fucking meltdown with anything I say.
I just want to stay, I ask god, every night, "God, please, don't let me die."
In the library, I change.
Coming with my trauma and face it, a character arc for the patience.
I know it's hard to create something while you're heart is always bleeding.
But that has nothing to do with the price in my head, "Keep my distance!"
They said, "she is not easy to find when people looking for her."
I got a change of heart...
YOU ARE READING
BREATHING
PoetryGoes in depth about finding one thing to getting through hardships and considering "Heal your hearts and mind" when the sounds only come from one source, your breathe.
