I feel the burst in my chest
an eruption that shakes my foundation
uproots my clarity
every part of me burns
I am filled with ash
choking on my sanity
I want to clean out the debris
but the soot coats every inch
even when the grime is washed away
there will always be smudges that are visible
smudges that leave their mark
YOU ARE READING
Anxious
PoetryMy voice is broken from my internal screams clogging up my throat [poetry]
