My mind floats like the clouds, drifting from place to place or thought to thought. Some days, when I'm feeling down, rain pours through my eyes. Some days a thick fog shrouds my mind, making my head ache and even some of the simplest tasks seem confusing.
"Her heads in the clouds" they say, but they don't know that my brain is the cloud. Their remarks make the storm in my head boom and crash with thunder and lightning.
My eternally clouded mind could be why I'm always 'under the weather', but my drifting thoughts won't let me think for too Long. If I stop and let my thoughts condense, the rain just pours once more.
Sometimes, the clouds go away and the sun shines brightly through my smile. I look forward to these days, when the sun rays flow through the cracks in my teeth and my mood is warm and bright, but I can't forecast the weather.
YOU ARE READING
A bunch of self written poems/ short stories
PoetryLiterally just the title Everything is self written A lot of this is edgy venting uwu
