My identity is not made up of my past. My mind is silence. My mind is an explosion in space. A supernova. Something so beautiful, so quiet, so different. But, supernovas are death. This death is different. It's a new beginning. Something different is going on in my head.
Sometimes I ask myself, who am I really?
I'm alive. I know that my brain will never rest until the day I am gone. My identity is the way I write, the way I create. My identity is not the way I am afraid of publicly speaking. My identity is the way there are a million words in my head that I cannot contain. It is the way my brain never rests. I stay up in the early morning hours because there are thousands of thoughts that I think and process each and every second. My hands do in fact sweat when I write so much, channeling words onto paper isn't that easy. I am the way I worry over little things. My identity is scribbled notes, margin doodles, empty pens, crumpled paper. Sometimes I get headaches from so many words. Sometimes I have to write but don't know how to start. My identity is a forest fire, my body is the risen phoenix. I will make my life into what I want. My mind is a supernova. I am unfinished business.
Thanks for reading!
- zoe
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Early Morning Scribbles
ПоэзияMy collection of poems, usually written in the early morning hours. (sometimes I'll make them at later times, haha)
