It's always there, lingering low
In the back of my throat
Like a bad taste
I can't wash out
It never leaves
Even in my sleep
It slithers like a living
Thing in my being
It pierces me
It's the teeth of a snake sinking into my skin
It's the tip of a dagger twisting in my gut
It weighs me down, solid and heavy.
A burden on my chest, shoulders, ankles.
I drag my feet one step at a time
It holds me back.
I press forward.
It will pass.
-GS
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon a Rhyme
PoetryThis is not a poem, it's a cry for help This is not a poem if it can't be felt This is not a poem for you to tell This is my poem. This is my hell. This will be the end of me This is the sway of the willow tree This was the way that you looked at me...
