i will keep on
the write
the fight
bleeding from my pen

i will question my sanity
till the very end
not missing a thing
i will discover my being

Why doesn’t my heart seem to understand?
Why can’t I breathe even with lungs?

Many people notice how hard I fight.
Yet many make it worse.

Will this hurt last for eternity?
Will my pain become my only reality?

The cold, cold day-
Seems to drag on,
With the sky still crying,
Nothing seems to move on.

I feel conflicted,
Everything inside,
Burns through and through,
Nothing left to reside.

its july.