Anchor me to the ground
I'm drowning out loud.
Trying to take a breath
before the poison becomes pungent.
Clogged lungs, freshly tainted black.
Pollution never hurt this much.
Trying to breathe
while chocolate tears run down her face.
Oh, how bittersweet sadness can be.
And he disappeared without a trace.
We stand toe to toe
being taught not to repeat his mistakes.
The few observant ones
staring not at the words or the speaker,
but at the sweet dark dust trailing behind
the girl.
Seemingly a ghost
in a different world.
Unseen by most,
but leaving her mark on the world.
That sugar she's cursed with.
Spontaneously lines appear.
Lasers piercing air.
We're back in that hollow place
at the foot of the stairs.
You must go up
to continue to live.
But the lasers surrounding,
one trigger is all that's needed
to set off the end.
So you stand.
panic.
Trying to find a safe solution
that screams unreachable.
Your mind can't fathom
that the lasers are fake.
You've tripped over too many false alarms
but you can't comprehend
that they're all the same.
Chest heavy, beating hard.
Staying in place
is much worse than tripping the wires.
But where do you go,
when you're too scared to move?
Breathing gets harder.
The atmosphere is thicker.
The boy is farther, running away.
He left behind his jacket, olive green.
A stomach turns, the world is suddenly too extreme.
Words to cope with feelings too harsh.
I can barely feel the water beneath my feet.
On my face when I'm with the lasers.
My heartbeat is too loud in my ears.
Music barely blocks it out.
But there's nothing wrong.
This paranoia is in the worst place.
It's hollow, lacking any temperature at all,
if that's possible.
A stiff reminder of the imaginary.
You still haven't moved
but reality rushes back
all too fast.
Suddenly it's back to
second rate and out of place,
knowing that you're seconds away
from choking on poisoned air.
But the poison never even existed.
And the air was clean for most others.
Fresh for some even.
This poison was imaginary.
I choke on my thoughts.
Calm yourself.
Don't lose your grip.
Don't cry bitterness.
Don't give up.
Another night,
another day spent.
Breathe.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poetry[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-
