Does it ever get tiring, living inside someone you hate?
Or does it get easy, slowly as you watch yourself fade?
Clarity,
How I'd give up every single piece of my own being,
Only for that one sigh of non dreaded bliss, every time I look in the mirror
Acceptance,
How I'd lay me bare on a railway inkling,
Only for the slightest provocation by it's morning blare
Guilt,
How I'd shuffle through letters of past day crisis,
Only for a sense of belonging, a connection with every bleeding prayer
Strength,
How I'd throw away all parts of me, fabricated like a verbal mid day lair
And maybe read this poem,
without the smallest tinge of earthly despair?
YOU ARE READING
• tainted •
Poetryi wonder if there's pride, i wonder, there's remorse my heart's a burning drought, my feet, a broken hose? glass beneath my toenails, are all those tears painted? there's dust behind the veils, or am i just tainted? [poetry] a third eye aesthetic fr...
