you breathed in the truth
like your last gulp of air
but truthfully,
you had already drowned
in the cold lies of yesterday
and your brain was ready to die
but you never knew
that the words had cut
a wound too deep to fix
so you put a bandaid over it
and prayed that you would heal
until the bleeding stopped
and the misery of your
loneliness
scabbed over
YOU ARE READING
What's Wrong
Poetrysome of these might not make sense but trust me neither does my mind