There is a trap in the back of my mind, for every time I go there I get stuck.
There is a tripwire in my memories that makes me beg to forget.
The stairs that go down my spine have secret doors, and the windows in my eyes are cracked like flood gates from tears.
My heart is an empty library that wishes it had stories.
My feet are fractured from dragging them behind me like weapons.
My hands shake from trying to write the truth but my lips are cracked from telling lies.
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine... I'm not.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy That Never Forgot Their Name
PoetryStep into the life of a mystery in this poetry collection exploring romance, death,pain, and creatures out of this realm. Forget what you have learned of heartbreak and ghosts because when you walk into the forest I promise that you will know the tr...
