My life is moving boxes and airplanes. Drugs and paps blue ribbon. Weed and cigarettes. Sex at a young age and broken hearts.
Foster care and emptiness. Shared bed and flannel sheets. Moving boxes and more emptiness. Drugs and anger. Life isn't supposed to be pretty like a Monet painting or even Jackson pollock and it's not supposed to be easy either like riding a bike. Life is full of bruises broken hearts knowing you can't always get what you want like the Rolling Stones once said. So for now I'll lay in bed with a pit in my stomach and for the music to take over the Rhythm of my heart. For now I'll pry the numbness in my hands goes away and that I can just be ok again.
YOU ARE READING
the depths of my despair
شِعرYin & Yang . The good ,The bad. A balance between the two. This is the dark finding it's light through the depths of despair.
