The chills of summer are delving into my skin,
Like any ant moving over it.
And every time these chills rise,
Their moving,
The heart rate gets faster
Than someone who's been put in the ventilator,
As if this is the last time.
Yet it is not,
It is just a consequence of that subtle anxiety,
Which follows like a shadow
With every step I take.
Born fire that burns within me,
With hottest sun rays on my skin,
Doesn't feel like pain
Or something that is burning me,
It feels like the sensation that could free me.
Bare feet walking through the burning land,
It seemed like a rest to the soul.
Sometimes shivering through cold night
Feels like the biggest fight.
It is easier to blame others,
But this agonized soul is forever in regrets
With itself,
Hoping every day that maybe tomorrow morning
Will wake up and find itself in a different self.
These unrealistic hopes,
The faded epitome of life,
The catastrophic consequences of life
That roam around the eyes.
Hope that could not be the ending,
Even if it doesn't hurt that I keep pretending.
Yet it is the surface
When deep down fear engulfs within me.
YOU ARE READING
The Mad People's Dorm
Poetry"Mad People's Dorm" is a heartfelt collection of poetry that takes you deep into the emotions and thoughts of someone battling anxiety, betrayal, and inner turmoil. Each poem is a window into a mind that has faced darkness and is striving to find li...
