8:57 pm, Thursday, 18th May
My fingers are blue and trembling
my chest is heaving and I am shaking –
Slowly I'm giving away like a capsizing ship
that cannot deal with the rocking weight
of the constant pushes from waves that pool water
into a deck that cannot take it anymore.
Soon I will overturn,
only time will tell.
YOU ARE READING
dysphoria
Poetrysilent pleas from a heart that's been tainted blue, a mind that ripples in constant turmoil and a mouth that remains shut //
