My chest is heavy,
My breaths are caving,
My lungs don't work appropriately.
My heart is running,
My head is spinning,
My mind tells me that I'm dying.
My hands are shaking,
My fingers drumming,
I'm dying, falling and disappearing.
YOU ARE READING
Little Thoughts
PoetryLittle words create little thoughts. Poems and thoughts. In a few languages: (English, Spanish, Polish).
