bloodredroses | poetry

perfectionism

soft tunes
playing a joke on me,
back to the roots
make a fool out of me.

I'm back to where I started,
or at least that's what it feels like.

why does my mirror look at me
like it can't recognize me?

I need a cure, to help me endure,
catch a train, run away
I wanna be gone, in another place.

shivers, like lightning bolts
striking through me,
at the same pace
as countless teardrops -
I'm running out of tissues.

I'm teary eyed
I'm watching,
bloodshot eyes
I'm coughing.

terrified
a thousand times,
stop thinking
I'm overthinking,

but it always starts
all over again.

~

~

hello, thanks for reading! <3
it's been a little while, but I so hope you liked this poem, even though it's a sad piece (but somehow I always like the sad ones best).

Let me know your thoughts in the comments! <3

xo, S🌹❤️