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Cherisse May
Poems
Apr 2018
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
Written by
Cherisse May
F
(F)
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