Pulling on my hair
Tugging through
The lack of emptiness there
At the roots
To get to the root
Of the problem
That exists
Without statelines
And train times and maps
But this route
That I am going down
Is the wrong way
To get ahead
The wrong way
To go to a head
With the thoughts
In my fragile head
It's far away
From the state
Where I feel safe
Strands of hair
That I sift through
Like sand does the air
Like the sea does to weeds
Like the air does to leaves
I wish I could
Cut the tension
But its invisible
I feel like it on a
Spiritual level
That I cant let go
YOU ARE READING
Litany by Nailinthewall
PoesíaA book of short poems, prose and passages written during a period of my life. I could get famous one day, be one of the first people who can say I knew them before they were popular! You know you want to....
