I live with your invisible strings
fingers tied to my mental state
why give a pair of wings
just to manhandle my fate?
my rage broke the chains
still never be manumitted
you left my rights encaged
as if a crime was committed
your mouths were the guns
my heart's full of bullet holes
tired of you wearing me out
with the absurd cajoles
making me bleed is your pastime
exacerbating the haywire
without seeing my fire
creeping to burn you alive
I'm making my own wings
out of waxes from candles I lit
and if I fall and drown like Icarus
then so be it.
YOU ARE READING
11:11 (Completed)
PoetryThe first Poetry Anthology published originally on my Facebook account, now on Wattpad. This is a confession to who I was, who I became, and who I will be, with whom I have lived, grown up, been ghosted by, been bewitched by, and to whom I want to...
