He gets mad when I struggle to breathe because of my brain telling me, "No! Don't! Something bad will happen." I listen every time because it's hard to ignore when you body shakes, your heart pounds and your chest closes in.
He gets mad because I listen to my body; my brain. Once, he was the person who understood, now... Now, he laughs and calls me dramatic. I don't ask why, I don't ask because I feel nothing, because I've lost my purpose.
08/05/17
YOU ARE READING
a teenagers journal
PoesieI have a lot of written pieces in my old journal from my Creative Writing course, so I decided to share them here.
