I feared that
Perhaps one day
My mind might devour itself,
That the words I gulped
Down would go away
If I shoved them
Deep enough
within my stomach.
Words petrified my mind
Into stone; I didn't
Understand how they
Operated.
I only knew they were
Painful.
They bleached my skin
In red crisses and crosses
Up my arm.
I didn't understand them,
Yet they scorched my skin
And lathered the pale flesh
With irrational insecurities.
Those strings of letters
Whispered into the wind,
Reminding that I was the
Girl time forgot.
And I swallow it --
Shove it to the abyss
In my heart and chest.
Who am I?
I couldn't tell you.
What is my purpose?
Perhaps there is no purpose
For me.
What am I, then?
Do I serve as nothing?
I don't know,
I couldn't tell you.
This person that I convey,
Day in and day out,
Do you really believe
This is actually what you see?--
Hidden under this fabric of
A walking piece of meat,
Is this really me?
I've doubted myself for
So long that I believe
I am incapable of
Creating the art that
Once came to me--
Now the motivation has
Abandoned me.
I'm just a little kid,
Flooded with so much
Uncertainty;
It suffocates my lungs
With anxiety.
The ones I love
Tell me I've turned out
Fine, but am I not
Still turning out?
How do they know
I won't fail them?
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Short Stories and Poems
Short StoryThe title basically says it all. This will be a collection of really short stories and poems I have made recently in a creative writing class as warm-ups, so just sit back and enjoy a few chapters of random things based off of random prompts. This...
