The air is so stiff and contaminated that a simple cleanse isn't enough
The walls give intimidating cracks and glares,
The quick sand called floor sinks you into place,
The more you struggle to get out, the faster you'll be pushed by the window,
The tables and chair glue you to sit down,
Eat in the new library
The room? Put on make-up or don't
And soon the thought on what heat level to set on the stove for the raw food ponders in the mind
The clock crawls to the next day
The triangle skin pours crimson paint
Confusions and panicking feed the brain
The tissue gives an aiding hug
That clogs the tunnel
The paint can has been shut
The paint on the wall begins to dry,
The paint sticks onto the tissue
The coughs and sneezes
The person is locked into the house and can't get out
For this person , houses make them sick
YOU ARE READING
Poems with Jasables
PoetryPoems are love, Poems are life, It's the soul of me And what I can be. My crowd gets big, And keeps getting bigger, That's cuz Jesus Christ is mah love! Peace. *Mic drop* I thought I was going to say it, didn't u?
