These words.
They bubble into my throat
Burning like acid, itching to be spat out.
But I cannot say them. I am not allowed.
But these words.
For I am a prisoner to silence.
To the thoughts in my own head.
But these words.
They so desperately want to escape my mind
To be spat out, to be rid of.
But these words.
I cannot share
These words.
A/n
Just a short and sweet one :)
I feel like this poem describes a lot of us when we are under a lot or stress and pressure.
YOU ARE READING
Bloom.
PoetryA collection of poems and prose from a range of topics. Enjoy! COVER BY: @soundthealarm graphics! Go check them out!
