Magnus Grace

If we got stuck 

In an elevator 

Would we have a real conversation 

For once? 

Could I make you laugh 

If we were in an elevator 

Would you trust 

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

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.