it's hard to keep a tidy living space
and it's hard to stay on point.
sometimes I don't want to clean my face
but it's healthy to have good hygiene.
my living room is long
and it's good for pacing.
I guess it makes my legs stronger
but my heart is racing.
I bet it's hard
to be a tired paranoid rabbit.
my mom cries so my glass is half full
but theres a hole in the bottom.
and my eyes are too dull
to notice that my glass is empty,
and that now she's crying blood.
maybe if I still had purity
I would be enough.
on another point,
I always need a timer.
I need that loud alarm
so I can focus on my breakfast.
I can imagine I'm at a personal diner,
and I'm sitting next to my favorite celebrity,
and I'm living on my own with three dogs and I'm married and I have my dream job and I graduated and
and I forgot to eat my breakfast.
it's time to go to work.
work makes me feel confident.
it's making me who I need to be.
I'm still clumsy,
but I get my work done.
I work hard,
I try to understand,
I go out of my comfort zone.
I expanded my level of patience because sometimes it's hard to be nice to people who are being really mean.
sometimes my poems are conversations with myself-
it's not uncommon,
I talk to myself in person too.
on another point,
I don't want to do anything at all.
I am so tired and I am so small,
I have fun and I laugh and I eat,
but I have so much to do-
sometimes I just want to sleep.
this is the end because I'm going to bed goodnight
YOU ARE READING
The Road to Paradise
PoetryThis book has a bunch of poems that have bits and pieces of my life in them. I write whatever comes to mind, and it usually makes sense. But everything has a hidden meaning. Of course, some of it is random, but it all comes together (plus I like to...
