—
the world is slowly slipping through my fingers
and like a slippery grip
i can't quite hang on
real time is spilling from my glass
and like it's destined to break
i can't quite keep it together
moments of mine are sliding past my gaze
and like a quick flash
i can't quite grasp onto it
—
YOU ARE READING
'identity'- poetry
Poesia"perhaps it's impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be" a poem book exploring struggles with identity, emotions, and finding a place where you belong (a few of these poems are from my other poem book "inside me".)
