Electric buzz. Solitary note.
Separate pangs of anxiety
Lumps form in the throat
"Whatever," I say
This is how the world works
Sedition will get us nowhere!
But the chaos that we bear—
It churns in our stomachs
'til the day we spit toxic bile
And forsake our lovers
to guard a selfish pride, instead of
the likeness of our mothers.
YOU ARE READING
A Meaningless Collection
PoetryA collection of variously themed poems that I write mostly on my commute to class or when I can't find a reason to fall asleep.
