These letters of the alphabet
That rest within my mouth
Made to form poetic words
And sentences with a clear message
But my mouth is agape
And the letters rolling off of my tongue
Are scrambling, they're struggling
To get into formation
They don't know the difference
Between the good and the bad
The polite and the harmful
Yet they fall off like rotten apples
One by one
Striking those below in the skull
With my dysfunctional mouth
Full of the alphabet that can't
Even say one thing right.
YOU ARE READING
phosphenes
PoesieA collection of poems about mental health, identity and love. TW AND CW FOR POSSIBLY TRIGGERING TOPICS.
