my trees lost oxygen
my depression is a wildfire, and i don't have enough water to put it out
i'm slowly burning to ashes
so stand at a distance
pretend that you are helping
even though we both know it's inefficient
you'll only care for a day or two
when the fire's gone dead
i'm left alone again
i wasn't meant to be a national forest
— e. gould
YOU ARE READING
A CUP OF SCORPIO VENOM
Poesíatwo poets write what no one dares to speak [ poetry book ] [ all rights reserved ]
