••part of a writing prompt- write what these lyrics mean to you- "in these hands I'll hide, ill hide when the world collides is not enough for me"••
I will grow up a survivor to many things.
My childish heart, beating to the tempo of my brothers army men, survived a war between my mom and dad.
My body beaten down, bruised and battered, like a run down ghost town, survived depression, hell and back, heartbreak, broken bonds and severed ties, all not too far apart.
My mind is constantly ten steps ahead of me, working with my heart like it's their duty.
My hands feels so slow trying to keep up, but I love it, can't feel the pain in my joints when I'm busy writing pick-me-ups.
Got this art form to keep me sane, I guess you'd call it luck.
I am a survivor to many things and this isolation is no exception.
Clasp these hands together and call it desperation, make these hands push your heads to panic, call it protection.
I don't know much but,
I will NOT hide behind these working hands in fear,
let the tectonics smash, crash, watch the media get a whiplash, getting the right angles just to fool you.
Have we forgotten all we've made it through?
YOU ARE READING
•honeypot thoughts• a book of poems
Poesíaall the poems ive written compiled together. thanks for reading if you do <3 I appreciate any feedback, compliments or critiques! My art is inspired by life in and of itself. I try to create pieces based off of anything that touches me persona...
