select
connect
diving into what once was
a continent of information and shared time
trading a small piece of me for a chance
sticks and stones may break my bones
but we don't have bones inside our brains
may just beat myself with sticks and stones anyways
words, they say, will never hurt me
when the brain is processing them
words could very well be our end
feelings aren't something you can mend
unlike weeds, they don't come and grow back again
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 1 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife apparently wattpad limits the number of parts you can have, so I'm s...
