Who am I?
A poet who wants
To stargaze?
Sure,
But in my ways,
I am blinded-
Like I'm bound
By chains of depression-
Anxiety-
I don't mind it.
Let it flow into my
Dead head
As I drift off to bed.
I can be perfect-
And then the worst.
I can be amazing-
And then a curse-
A hex-
A spell-
Leading people to a personal hell,
Like I do to myself.
Positivity bleeding,
And beating out of me
Like a river of blood
To a make a flood
Out of tears.
Beyond my years,
And fears-
I have my own shadow
Of doubt.
So now
I'm out
Of the count.