you rest your chin on the ice cold window sill
until icy tendrils spread down your neck and you feel so numb
and you watch the city lights shimmer and dance in the distance for hours
until they blur together in a single golden smear
that rolls down your face in tiny droplets
you’re so fucking sick of not being okay
it feels like the mist that encircles the building tops has settled into your bones
and you wish your head would stop pounding in time with the music
while you down your sixth shot of whiskey like it’s morphine
and your knuckles turn white while you grip the glass
like your life fucking depends on it
and your legs give out from underneath you in the shower every day
because you’re too tired
so you draw your knees to your chest and watch the droplets race down your skin
until you can’t feel the warmth reaching your bones
and you’re so fucking sick of your heart bleeding
at 3 a.m. while you study the cracks in your ceiling
and contemplate how it would feel to dive into those shimmering lights
and dance alongside them in the frozen air
YOU ARE READING
embrace the tornado
PoetryThese are not happy stories, they are not sad stories. They are insignificant raindrops pattering against my brain that barely encapsulate the thunderstorm. I find my existence bathed in shades of gray that mirror the thunderheads in my eyes. I am a...
