Red flags.
Fucking red flags.
Everywhere.
Water filling my lungs.
Filling my damn eyes.
Blocking the air.
My hands are shaking.
Shaking so bad I can't cut as straight as hell.
Like I'm an earthquake ruining the town.
I can't sleep.
My mind keeps running on a fucking endless course.
Can't get a peaceful moment.
What can I do?
What should I fucking do?
I can't do a damn thing.
Not a damn fucking thing.
I'm fucking stuck.
Promise me you won't save me.
I'm not worth it.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Wings
Poetry'For someone so small you're pretty strong. For someone so brave you're pretty shy. For someone so observant you're pretty abnormal.' For someone like me it's pretty hard to decide who I wanna be or where I want to fit in. So this isn't exactly poet...
