Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
There’s a howling ghost deep within my chest
that courses through my veins
And refuses to let me rest

She screams at me that life is tough,
But so are you
You wouldn’t have made it this far
If it wasn’t true

Pick yourself up off the ground
It isn’t your home
Dust off your crown
And go claim your throne

So I struggle to stand up
And look at myself in the mirror
The voice is right, after all
A Queen doesn’t have time for tears
I think I was made to do more
than just break
I will spread dirt into every crevice of my broken heart and plant flowers so big and beautiful, that their roots will mend all the shattered pieces back together, and you’ll never be able to see the mess I used to be.
Lauren Johnson Nov 2018
I am proof of life after death.
Time for a new chapter
Lauren Johnson Nov 2018
I am confused by your hand resting on the side of my face. As if you’re holding something fragile, that you don’t want to break.

I am confused by your gentle eyes that stare back into mine. As if I hold every answer to every question you wondered. Like I am your god-sent sign.

Could it be true?
Could you actually like me
Like I like you?
Probably not
Lauren Johnson Sep 2018
My life is a series of questions with no answers that come at me like a 90 mph curve ball straight to the chest.

If only I was a baseball player, and could decipher one pitch from the next

Because the only pitch I can knock out of the park is the question “why are you sad?”

And my home run answer is

“I don’t know”
Lauren Johnson Jul 2018
Don’t put out the fire in your lungs just because he doesn’t like the flames that pour out your lips
Next page