the spaces between my thoughts are empty and oxygen less, which is ironic, because i get lost there so often.
when you don't know what to say, isn't it just easier to say nothing at all?
my brain is on fire, my skull is drowned in gasoline and everything is hot and wild and i am more familiar with the insides of my eyelids than the smile on my face.
im scared to raise my eyes. because thats a threat, right? thats a stance. thats somewhere between the divides of right and wrong that separate pain and consent, that separate my mother and father in bed.
and i wonder what its like to dying or to really feel alive, i wonder if theres any meaning behind the flushing of my cheeks when i receive a compliment or the callouses on my fingertips. sometimes i think i'd like to run until its all i know how to do.
but then again, i guess theres no meaning in dwelling on midnight thoughts that come
in the middle
of the
day.
( i dunno what this is but i need to write more poems in here before i publish it lolz )
YOU ARE READING
nevermind + poetry.
Poetryin which i write poems about love and growing up and everything that comes in between
