The pushing of thoughts
off the cliff that is
the edge of my mind.
Feeling them fall
until they are
tiny specks of dust.
Dust that is always
swept under the rug.
Forgotten until a sniffle
turns into a sneeze.
The air gets harder
to breathe.
Feb 6
Feb 6, 2026 at 11:14 AM UTC
The pushing of thoughts
off the cliff that is
the edge of my mind.
Feeling them fall
until they are
tiny specks of dust.
Dust that is always
swept under the rug.
Forgotten until a sniffle
turns into a sneeze.
The air gets harder
to breathe.
