You misunderstand me
my heart is iridescent

I want to lay in a field of flowers
Of all kinds

let the thorns
sink into my skin

I'm lost at sea
I can't find the right direction
to find the land

I never feel like I'm home
even when I'm laying on my own bed

just want to hear
of how it was
when we were younger

tell me
how I didn't mind

tell me how
it was
when we were younger

how we never cried

never looked up to the sky

It was one morning

when the light
suddenly disappeared

I begin to notice
feel my worries

that the sun isn't so high in the sky
anymore

then it came as a thought
I never would've thought
it like this

how
when we were younger
we played around
and never went to sleep so early

You mistake me

I'm not the same girl
I have a grey mind
a vortex in my head

My heart is overflowing

bleeding into the leaves;
grass

I just want to chase after
the days
when we were younger

Scars are the evidence that wounds can be healed...

but scars are also a reminder of how those wounds got there...

Lately
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Unfamiliar.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.

Physically, I'm okay, emotionally I am colder than any winter.

"**** it"
no
I refuted

I said,
"Bless it"

The world is enough a hell to be ******
Why curse it further?

either i am very bad
at being human
or i am far
far
too good at it.