Writing

Sometimes
I wake up
And I just can’t
I can’t get up
I can’t go to school
I can’t go get my meds
Why?
Because sometimes
It’s too much
Accepting this world
Is just too much
And I just can’t
Make myself

"You realize

If we do this

It's like going back in time,"

I tell you,

I tell you,

Over and over and over.

You don't listen.

You've never listened.

It’s a ball of knotted string

Stuck under my ribcage.

Whenever I start to untangle it,

I break a sweat & forget

Why I even tried. 

I won’t even attempt to write a poem about music- poems aren’t me. I’ve never been good at writing them. But a block of text doesn’t look as pretty. It really just looks like a rant. And I guess, that’s what it is.

I look at him.

He looks at me.

We're both holding back laughter.

The elevator doors won't open,

And worse than that,

We're stuck in here

With a lot of other

Random

People

Who we don't know!

Under the green jungle crown

you silently go, 

Shimmers of light pattering 

down onto your soft, worn skin.