My heart feels moldable
My skull, compact with thoughts
My throat, filled with sadness, but a lively beat With life, breath, a feeling
Proof I'm alive
My mouth goes dry with questions of where I will go
My mind fluent with silence
My mothers words ring through my ears
Life is dull she says
When will the ringing stop, must | listen to the tune.
It is no melody, no poem, but a statement filled with,
Resentment, of the dreams unfulfilled My heart feels solid, a clay, unthawed.
Apr 12
Apr 12, 2026 at 2:27 AM UTC
My heart feels moldable
My skull, compact with thoughts
My throat, filled with sadness, but a lively beat With life, breath, a feeling
Proof I'm alive
My mouth goes dry with questions of where I will go
My mind fluent with silence
My mothers words ring through my ears
Life is dull she says
When will the ringing stop, must | listen to the tune.
It is no melody, no poem, but a statement filled with,
Resentment, of the dreams unfulfilled My heart feels solid, a clay, unthawed.
Written Thursday, Feb 6th, from my old journal.
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