i am so full of unrelenting agony
of pent up screams
that echo off of my ribs
that i feel i ought to burst
shattering my flesh like a balloon
maybe then i wouldn't have to think
of all the lies they've told us
and refused to allow us
to disbelieve
let myself let go of the misery
and finally find that light
waiting at the end of the tunnel
yes, not every story has a happy ending
but i'd like mine to
YOU ARE READING
collections of constellations and the stars || poetry collection
Poetrypoems often written at midnight, each telling its own story. an anthology of sorts. grammatically incorrect use of lowercase is an aesthetic choice and intentional. |incomplete|
