I'm so bored of me
and that's hard to say
when I've spent so much time unlearning
what other people had to say
I'm so bored of me
that it's turning to pain
an do don't know why
I can't accept my rain
is this it all?
is this what I came for?
a memory in a box
nothing else to ask for?
I try and try again to bring these voices out of my head
and into real life
but everything I do
just leads me fucking back to you
is that alright?
can I stay here tonight?
in this empty whole in me
I can stay here, I can breathe
there is nothing left for me
in this place
where can I go next?
YOU ARE READING
sat by the ocean
Poetryphotos are not mine!!! caution: chapter two has an image of a real animal skull. just in case anybody would be uncomfy! (continued onto Laying By The Ocean)
