he sinks further into the murky soil
the mud engulfing his small frame
he does not move
nor struggle
he feels nothing
the roots reach for the boy
to give him support
but he does not grab hold
the sun shines brighter
to give the boy hope
but he sees no point
the birds chirp louder and stronger
to let the boy hear their song
but he's deaf to it's beauty
he has already given up
emotionless towards the kind gestures
proof he should fight
but it feels fake
nature blossomed
only when he stopped caring
only when he was in peril
only when he felt numb
so the boy does not protest
surrounded by dirt
sucking him under
burying him beneath his own self-loathing
YOU ARE READING
Anxious
PoetryMy voice is broken from my internal screams clogging up my throat [poetry]
