My shell is so alive;
my eyes
still wonder
to what’s new.
But my mind
dimming.
Thoughts
silenced.
Inside the shell
myself is dying.
I’m already halfway there,
do I need permission
to cry?
to die?
I’m already grasping for air
even when there’s enough for us
to share.
Feb 17, 2024
Feb 17, 2024 at 10:42 AM UTC
My shell is so alive;
my eyes
still wonder
to what’s new.
But my mind
dimming.
Thoughts
silenced.
Inside the shell
myself is dying.
I’m already halfway there,
do I need permission
to cry?
to die?
I’m already grasping for air
even when there’s enough for us
to share.
I’m not overdramatic and overemotional. Sometimes life just gets the best of me. It’s only human, right?
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