Writing

I think I have forgotten

What it means to be human

I failed to swim in this air,

Drowning in oxygen that slowly rusts my lungs

If I continue to take my medicine

Will I lose the scars?

Have you ever felt the weight of an unspoken word?

Because I sure have.

The word “Why” can mean a lot of things…

But for me, it means Why do I feel this way?

The stack is too tall

But the mound

Of boards

Of plush

Of change

Can’t touch

The ground 

Without withering

That… aroma!

It envelopes the summer breeze with the purity of ripe, succulent pineapple. But… not just pineapple chunks? Pineapple sorbet, with a tinge of six-minute-old waffle cone.

I say I hate her

That I would do anything to get rid of her.

But she is one of my oldest friends

She has always been there me

Never once leaving me alone

She hates herself

She knows she needs to open up

But her mind won’t let her 

Her heart begs to talk to someone