I can't hear myself over my stream of consciousness/so loud/can't hear/ feel my body run out of words/they come like hail/can't even hear/but there's nothing to hear/nothing to see/everyone to love/everyone to hate/can't make up my mind in this endless stream of words/drowning, drowning/where is my lifeboat?/To save me from words/to save me from streams of consciousness/to SAVE ME FROM MYSELF/Can't feel the words coming/ Just the fear that they'll stop/Stop my own voice in this stream of consciousness/ HOW CAN I WRITE IF I CAN'T EVEN HEAR?/Hear myself over this stream of consciousness
YOU ARE READING
Naive
PoetryWORDS WERE THE LIFEBLOOD OF POETRY, AND I REMAINED SILENT. A collection of poetry. For the people who don't feel at home in their own skin, for the poets, for the people who are depressed, for the people who aren't depressed, for the people with wo...
