If there is sadness,
I will find it.
I sniff it out,
Like drugs to a K9 officer,
I will jump on trucks to hold the emotion in my mouth,
Will not loosen my teeth around it.
This sadness was not mine but I inherited it.
Not inherited but dug it out from the dirt in the backyard of my childhood home,
Like fossils to an archaeologist.
My poems are my museum,
Showing off this shiny thing,
And yes if it's covered in tears,
It is considered shiny.
Let me feel yours,
Hold it in my hands,
So when you choose to let go,
I can hoard this one with the rest.
If you enter my room,
You will gasp for air,
You will feel suffocated by the emotions swirling around you,
And I am sorry to say I don't know how to keep it in a box anymore,
So maybe loneliness is best.
I'm tired of watching people choke when they try to swallow it,
Tired of people leaving because there is no emotional Heimlich maneuver.
So I'll sit in my room listening to a sad song on repeat,
Until the battery on my phone dies and all that's left is silence.
Maxx
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Does the Rain Ever Stop?: Poems and Musings
PoesíaHello Reader, This is my collection of poems and thoughts that I have compiled over the last few years. I have been writing for many years and my number one hope is that someone reads my poems and feels seen. Says "oh that's me". We all live in this...
