These days,
I don't even have the inspiration to write.
I used to be a snake.
As i comfortably shed my emotions
And salvaged the remains.
Smashing them with a pestle and mortar
And blowing them in the wind.
Hoping that they would reach someone
In a comforting breeze to dry their painful tears.
Just to let them know
That they are not the only ones in pain.
Something they might take comfort in.
Far from comfortable in my own skin,
Itching to peel back layers like an onion,
Hoping there's a new me underneath.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
These days,
I don't even have the inspiration to write.
I used to be a snake.
As i comfortably shed my emotions
And salvaged the remains.
Smashing them with a pestle and mortar
And blowing them in the wind.
Hoping that they would reach someone
In a comforting breeze to dry their painful tears.
Just to let them know
That they are not the only ones in pain.
Something they might take comfort in.
Far from comfortable in my own skin,
Itching to peel back layers like an onion,
Hoping there's a new me underneath.
