My world is built on paper,
And my thoughts on water,
With no waterproofing done.
When the floods come,they drown me deep.
I'm drowning.
I've lost the art of hiding myself in words,
I've lost metaphors and similes,
And my devices and my languages.
All that's left is my inadequacy.
Inadequacy to express my thoughts,
Inadequacy of my tongue to form coherent sentences.
I've lost.
YOU ARE READING
Silent Scream
PoetryI write falsely true to break myself and then get myself back together in a static flow!
