TW: anxious thoughts, feelings of derealization
Am I dead?
This feeling in my chest, the suffocating tightness and the crushing weight, my heart beating ferociously against my rib cage, and a twisted, clenching grasp of despair that renders me paralyzed but gives me an overwhelming urge to run out of my own skin, out of my own mind
Maybe I am out of my mind
Maybe my whole life has just been a figment of my imagination, a scenario from my conscious, and alternate reality created by something that doesn't exist at all perhaps
Maybe I was never even alive in the first place
YOU ARE READING
𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 // 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲
Poetry》𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧 - 𝐍𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐦 𝐎𝐩. 𝟓𝟓 Little things I've written lately I'll have specific trigger warnings for each chapter
