Maybe if I rearrange the furniture
in my mind,
I'll clear up some space in my head for
thoughts more kind,
and I'll feel like I have space
to breathe,
I won't feel I have to
heave -
I won't feel such a need
to leave,
or maybe it'll just give me
more space to run.
If I empty the room of
my brain,
maybe it'll make me feel
that bit more sane;
or maybe the emptiness will make
me feel full,
perhaps gravity will strengthen
it's pull -
I don't need a bed to sleep
all day,
I don't need anymore room
to run away;
I need another reason
to stay,
or maybe I just need to listen to
what's already here.
YOU ARE READING
An Amalgamation of Words
PoetryI'm almost as bad at writing descriptions as I am at writing poems, but at least I tried. Sharing my inner turmoil, one poorly worded sentence at a time.
