my sad is not quite the same lately
she is suppressed by my ever moving body
she is trapped under my constant moving , always present , never pushing until I am alone
in the shower, when I can do nothing but curl and let her show herself
this is her revenge , reeking havoc in my alone time to force me to stumble
she is opposed to my better
she is angry at my progression
she comers me in my room at night and forces me to remember her name
perhaps this is all the better I can receive , or perhaps she will grow content in her place soon
YOU ARE READING
A series of poems by Beccah
PoesiaThis is a bunch of poetry I've written over the years. It's my favorite form of literature. I just need a place to put it all, so enjoy :)
