i am..tired
my eyes close ever so slightly, yet my mind doesn't budge. it is still a train going full speed, ready to hit anyone and evergone in its path.
i am..patient
i wait and i wait for recovery to wash over me like rain washes over chalk, yet the rush of the water hasn't arrived.
i am..ready
i am ready to stop looking at bagels and feeling tensity in my throat, i am ready to stop being so messed up that i cannot break my habits and just get better. they all tell me to "just eat something," but they do not know that those words mock me every tick in second of everyday, they do not realise that i am like a car.
it takes time to start and stop a car, and ive already torn out the engine. dont they see? a car with too many problems is sent to the junk yard.
dont they see? a car with too many problems cannot be fixed.
YOU ARE READING
this little fight
Poetryi paint my eyes with words and my mind with thoughts. a collection of slam poems.
