Your nails are rugged and bitten to the numb, glaring at the mirror you strip and enter the tub.
The water is hot but your thoughts refuse to be melted, your lungs want to drown and collapse like you never felt it.
You hair sticks to your stiffened face pushing it you inhail, your composure continues to stands but behaves like a ripped sail.
You want to drown, you should drown but why didn't you frown?
Smiling and composed you exit the tub, never had you joined the pity club.
It's just the worry, the anxiety, the dread, buts frankly it's all in your head.
YOU ARE READING
The Bees, The Honey & The Bears
PoetryPOETRY FOR; For the ones bound like the bees, The ones with a soul as everlasting and pure like honey, And the ones with a spirit as determined as a bear.
