There’s a duality
in me that’s slipping
my grip.
Some things are left
better unsaid,
and I attempt to button
the lip yet the
words, they slip—right
off my tongues tip.
Precarious;
Is the articulation
that best describes
when I’m feeling
my thoughts—
They’re fueled by fear,
followed by actions,
my brain just connects
dots.
May 7
May 7, 2026 at 4:30 AM UTC
There’s a duality
in me that’s slipping
my grip.
Some things are left
better unsaid,
and I attempt to button
the lip yet the
words, they slip—right
off my tongues tip.
Precarious;
Is the articulation
that best describes
when I’m feeling
my thoughts—
They’re fueled by fear,
followed by actions,
my brain just connects
dots.
