Written 10/21/18
Somehow I always end up here.
The only time I don't bruise,
is when I'm trying to.
Give it a shot, punch and punch.
How will you know if it's enough?
The sun drops out of the sky,
and I know that I will not soon
have the strength to put it back in place.
That big fiery orb just rolls around down here.
Like my thoughts, always tumbling.
And together, we roll off the side
and crash into fragile china as we go.
Me and the sun,
what have we become?
Did I drag you down?
Or did I follow you?
Someone answer me.
The moon is getting lonely up there,
wondering where you went, oh great star.
You are dearly missed,
And no one has even realized I've gone too far.
v.e.s.
YOU ARE READING
Cardboard Lungs
Poetry"Demons floating in my morning cereal." "Ink isn't the only thing bleeding tonight." A collection of my poetry. *I do not promote self harm or any other negative coping skills. My poetry is my outlet for preventing those actions in my own life, so I...
