sometimes I feel that overthinking is making me over flow with bubbling feelings.
I'm loosing touch, I'm not enough for me.
the world is winning, we've been terminating, the fishes like to tell me I'm not enough..
for me.
for them I'm happy, I'm okay.
it will be okay
my bath is scorching, push my head under until my skin turns raw and red.
my hand fumbles for the tap.
I wanna speak for a second, all of these bubbles clog up my throat.
eyes glazed in red, gold, white.
vintage filter, sit in the dark for a moment.
my thumb bangs over the side, your smile is so very vivid.
"thought that I'd tell you all"
I weep through eyelashes of green.
you won't mind, you moved on to turn off the light.
scars, I'm over scars.
I'm okay, yes I'm okay.
have you broken enough bones to know how to be okay?
standards too high, I understand.
there aren't enough dying stars in your sky.
YOU ARE READING
gritted teeth
PoetryCOMPLETED most of these are un co-operative thoughts jumbled into sentences, they may not be traditional poems, but each one holds another one of my fears, that i can no-longer harbour. an: thank you for 600+ reads Unedited and may not make sense b...
