my anxiety
is the peg on a puzzle piece
that keeps me from fitting in.
i haven't left my house in days.
the world is overwhelming,
and my soul doesn't belong.
in the grand scheme of the universe,
i am a mistake.
a glitch.
my soul is stuck
in the body of the living,
when it should be six feet underground.
my soul is pounding
at the ivory jail cell in my chest
begging to be released
from this forced fit.
i want to be freed.
YOU ARE READING
metanoia
PoetryM E T A N O I A (n.) : the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life this is my first poetry book, and because this book is not completed yet they are very unorganized. when i'm finished the book will be rearranged. all poetry is...
