Last night was crap. I didn't get any sleep. It all started with me talking to her. His ex. She's sad and hurt and I know that feeling. I've tried to lessen the pain but I've somehow managed a way to grow it. She's hurting herself and so am I. She's doing it physically I'm doing it mentally. Last night I couldn't breathe. I felt like there was something heavy like an anvil on my chest and it made it hard to breathe. My heart beat rose and rose until I felt like I was going to explode. But there I lie on my bed panicking. Making sure no one in the house can hear me. The feeling never stopped. This morning I'm breathing slowly my heart rate is still fast and there's still an anvil on my chest. Yet I got up. I got dressed and I'm at school. Still breathing. Still walking. Still in pain. Putting on a smile for everyone to see. Is this what it's like to be strong? Or is this what it's like to be weak?
YOU ARE READING
Just Breathe
AcakBunch of poems of life. They're trash but I need to get it down somewhere.
