Always holding onto what I can find
reaching for a cause in which
I could comply.
But I'm not what you've seen.
I'm so much less and it pains me
that you can't believe,
I'm the worst you'll encounter,
trust me.
The pit on my stomach has no end
and once you drop a stone on it,
it will never see the light of day again.
I'm slowly being wrapped
with a musky pillowcase,
readied to be slept on,
my bones crushed into ash.
The problem with me,
is that I surrender before
time can pass.
I never had the strength.
YOU ARE READING
Self Taught Reality | a poetry book
PoesíaPoetry books aren't that popular here but that should change, so I'm giving it a go. Writing is all I do besides school so poems are the only way I've found works to pour all the painfully abstract thoughts out of my head. I hope someone out there...
