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cherisselyPoems
Maybe it's the alcohol Running through my veins Seeping through all of my pores Invading my skin, crawling, Leaving a trail of heat and numbness. Maybe it's my mind Trying to twist myself into A wringing mess, unconscious, Undesirable for the current society Whose words weigh millions. Or maybe it's just me. Overthinking, in a dark room. Laying there, paralyzed. Contemplating. Typing. Thinking. Tap, tap, tap. I'm tired.
0
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 9:57 AM UTC
9:55 pm
Maybe it's the alcohol Running through my veins Seeping through all of my pores Invading my skin, crawling, Leaving a trail of heat and numbness. Maybe it's my mind Trying to twist myself into A wringing mess, unconscious, Undesirable for the current society Whose words weigh millions. Or maybe it's just me. Overthinking, in a dark room. Laying there, paralyzed. Contemplating. Typing. Thinking. Tap, tap, tap. I'm tired.
But I've stopped moving.
#poem#notes#dark#weird#writing#tired#sad
cherissely
Written by
cherissely
F
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 9:57 AM UTC
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