So SickA Poem by CorrespondenceTired of the daily toil..?Tried to sail away, But my hope splintered Thousands of pieces Tried to save them, But each cut my skin Just leave them be Ripped open, expecting to find hope Even the shallowest of truths To cling to Instead finding black The ghastly phantom Chokes me So sew me up I'm tired Sick of it Want to feel something Real True Tired of having nothing Feeling numb Sick of tears The only thing I'm made of Will it ever run dry? This ocean of tears Drowning me With its isolation This mountain of hurt Crushing me With its brutality Maybe my tears, my hurt, Will come together Create an island To find refuge A haven for my mind Instead this little land Kills me Loneliness, Those icy fingers rip my heart out That violent island Maybe I'll go to the shore Swim far away Create hope anew another day But my arms ache Legs sink I drown Lungs fail Mayday What is worse, Choking in that deserted isle, Or drowning in those accursed tears? After all, it's what almost killed me
© 2018 CorrespondenceAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorCorrespondenceRunning From BishopsAboutSalutations! Anyway, just trying to get by, writing is my only way to truly express myself and who I claim to be. The bands that saved my life: Paramore, Yellowcard, Twenty One Pilots, Pierce .. more..Writing
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