"pluse" poems
Anxiety is the colour red like the stinging remnants of my tears that have passed,
Anxiety tastes like black coffee at three am,
Anxiety smells like a drip of my nosebleed that just wont fade,
Anxiety sounds like the constant pounding in my pluse,
Anxiety feels like the lump in my throat from the starchy medication,
Anxiety is my hidden enemy.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 12:54 PM UTC