Poem #343

I have this little vice
that makes me feel something
It burns down my throat
fills with smoke the mouth
that sometimes spits hateful words
towards their owner.

I have this little daydream
I run into when the world is colorless
It’s the only space I own where
I can design happiness and pain
the only spot under my control

I have this little habit
of putting myself under stress and pain
They are still emotions
and sometimes I just want to feel something
in middle of this numbness

I have this little problem
where I don’t feel up to date with life
My body doesn’t feel like home
the world leaves me behind
I don’t know how to stand in my own corner
I don’t know how to love or be loved.

My book is available on Amazon: Rehab


Make some cocoa puffs with me:

3 thoughts on “Poem #343”

  1. Being a poet
    I love the sound words make,
    Melodic,
    Rhythmic,
    Sedative,
    Vase,
    Base in contrast to nature,
    sometimes silent,
    deadly,
    an entire orchestra,
    heart to heart,
    never passive,

  2. You are absolutely loved ~

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