Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I can’t string together the right words to describe the feeling of black tar sands filling my lungs, Or chinks of ice inching their way through my veins- Maybe they’re somewhere in the relief I find Between the place my tires last touched the gravel And where they meet the sky. There’s something about being okay with death that’s totally not okay But there’s something about it that makes me want to roll out the welcome mat, Arms open where I’ve been waiting for you- In the home that’s no longer ours, Left in your flames I couldn’t quench.
0
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 11:19 PM UTC
Depression
I can’t string together the right words to describe the feeling of black tar sands filling my lungs, Or chinks of ice inching their way through my veins- Maybe they’re somewhere in the relief I find Between the place my tires last touched the gravel And where they meet the sky. There’s something about being okay with death that’s totally not okay But there’s something about it that makes me want to roll out the welcome mat, Arms open where I’ve been waiting for you- In the home that’s no longer ours, Left in your flames I couldn’t quench.
#depression #mood #disorder #emotion
Metamorphose
Written by
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 11:19 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem