One of those blank days,
When I feel am floating,
Through a vacuum, but slowly breathing.
My pulse is slow, my sight fades,
With a little dark,
It is bright mostly.
I doubt what's right,
What's left for you and I ?
Self discovery turned to hate,
Watching from the other side of the spectrum,
Reality is distorted.
Noises over the frequency of lecture,
Anxiety, barking in my head.
I see a dark cloud,
Am between losing faith,
And dreaming of better days.
When my soul says,
Fuck you and it's shouting.
My brain in super speed,
When I feel music is all I need,
The dark tempo with escape.
Trying to drop ink on paper,
But the signal with words is weak.
Let me say,
Let me,
Let...
Ugh.
YOU ARE READING
THE WILLOW TREE
PoetryIt's a struggle for my sanity through a moment of rage and out of space, psychetry is my build as I layer my truths, it's a journey, the second trip
