as the night turns from a icy blue
to a deep grey
i can no longer tell
whether the pain in my belly
comes from the alcohol
or the existential pain of being alive
i do not know
if my headache
stems from a lack of sleep
or the constant buzzing of anxiety in my brain
how about a diagnosis from the moon
YOU ARE READING
𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙 ༄
Poetryfall brings the rain and the storms and i cry with the sky- completed (oct 2019)
