I bury thoughts in the grave of my subconscious,
They don't deserve the air,
I bury thoughts that like to fly,
But it's not a clear sky
My mind is it's own ecosystem,
Always finding ways to flourish,
But lately I feel that it's dying,
The life is being pulled away
Some words trickle from my lips,
A beautiful waterfall,
Words that scare yet excite me,
Words that make me feel like I'm not just an empty shell
I want to relish in these words,
Let them shape themselves into my reality,
But I'm afraid to fly,
Even with the open sky above my dying head
YOU ARE READING
My Tragedies
PoetryThis is a collection of poems when I've been my most depressed and low. Trigger warning. If you relate to any of these, please reach out. It's never too late.
