my feet haven't touched the ground
in a while.
I'm not sure if it's because
I'm flying or falling.
probably both.
⠀
is this what it feels like,
to lose sight of the sky each day?
will this help me to understand
which way I am to go next?
⠀
I've lost integral parts of myself
to people with blood-stained hands.
all that is left within me now
is a fear of everything I can't control.
and fragments.
endless, jagged fragments
crushed between the palms
of my own hands.
I wish I could say
they did this but
I did this I did this I did this.
⠀
I have blood on my hands, too.
⠀
and I'm supposed to
b r e a t h e
like my lungs
haven't been severed
from my chest.
⠀
my chest, an empty cavern,
where my vital organs used to reside.
now, I'm housing flames
that are one spark away
from engulfing me completely.
⠀
and I'm supposed to
b r e a t h e
before the smoke clears.
⠀
but all that is left
is a cruel kind of breath.
⠀
I did this to
m y s e l f.
YOU ARE READING
calm as chaos, clear as smoke ✓
Poetry❝𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯.❞ a collection of poetry. title insp: bad luck by former vandal.
