the sagging bag slips down my back,
my crumbling muscles fall under the weight.
i lift my leg,
try and move.
but i'm stuck,
with only a tumultuous bag of troubles.
alone and shivering,
in the cold black slopes surrounding me.
closing in and i can't run,
the bag trapping me.
and i can't let go,
despite the cuts on my hand.
YOU ARE READING
3.2 | The End of Infinity
Poetrywe hide our inner pain behind smiles filled with hope. until, the hope evaporates and everything has g o n e . [poetry by a]
