THREE
how this life weighs at me, heavy in its touch
I think it has come to the point
where my bones have ached far too long.
The way the branches of my body bend
so easily at the floor and wind.
This bend has come from living.
Perhaps I am overdue
or many days passed an oil check.
Maybe the scars of this life have finally
made their way to my heart.
This life of mine is fading.
Living is heavy,
and I have come to know
the drag it lays on my veins.
I am carrying a mountain,
sculpted within my spine,
and it will not leave.
This blood of mine is thick
with worries I cannot taste.
Perhaps it is why my arms hang
with this dead weight.
What's your go-to breakfast food?
𐎀 If I had the ability to, I'd have breakfast for every meal, haha. I love all breakfast foods, besides eggs. English muffins, waffles, bacon, and of course, the best of the best...cereal. I love all of it!
May
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𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺
PoetryMELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. SOON TO BE A PUBLISHED PAPERBACK. COMING 2025! This melancholy drips from my fingertips so slowly, you begin to forget I even exist. All of me, the hard parts of flesh you could never seem to love...
