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alicewildePoems
Sometimes, I think of taking my hands And ripping - splitting - cracking, My ribcage in two.                                                                          The breastbone splintering apart, My torso opening like a rotten tree. The inside hollowed, Like a lake that has been emptied   I've convinced myself that Fragrant flowers Would grow there. That they would grow feverishly In the gnawing gap I had created. And that time would preserve What I had done.
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Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
Anxiety
Sometimes, I think of taking my hands And ripping - splitting - cracking, My ribcage in two.                                                                          The breastbone splintering apart, My torso opening like a rotten tree. The inside hollowed, Like a lake that has been emptied   I've convinced myself that Fragrant flowers Would grow there. That they would grow feverishly In the gnawing gap I had created. And that time would preserve What I had done.
#anxiety#flowers#lake#ribcage#hands#time#tree#rotten#empty#numb
alicewilde
Written by
alicewilde
30/F
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
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