there's a sharp, growing pain
starting low, quiet, relatively calm
growing stronger and stronger-
nearly can't take the hunger, the craving of touch or food or satisfaction, simply due to being alive
simply due to living and experiencing all the lovely wonderful beautiful stunning gorgeous amazing awe-inspiring things in the world
yet still
as bags grow heavy under my eyes,
the weight presses harder over my shoulders,
my feet drag longer against the floors—tripping, stumbling, struggling to push forward,
as nights grow longer and the hunger grows stronger,
i find it hard to believe there are those who would disagree
disagree that what i have coming for me is exactly what i deserve
at least if i'm awake i can't entertain the monsters, and they can't creep in and haunt me
YOU ARE READING
Anthology of Me and other various poems
Poetrythe first 6 chapters are the original project I did my junior year of high school, the rest are other poems I wrote at varying times from then 'til now.
