Right when my honey brown eyes are bloodshot
and my chapped lips quiver --
I head to that large vanity mirror
At first, I watch myself take sharp, ragged breaths
then I'm pulling and touching at my exhausted face
Looking at what I was given and acknowledging the waste
And when the planned meditation shifts to dissociation
I'm on the fence between a jovial belly laugh and wounded cry
That confusion dilutes itself to anger and I get chills down my crooked spine
"Your blood is running cold yet you're still alive,
you've prolonged the bittersweet epilogue",
my mind speaks down to me as if I'm only a child
It says the age piles on and no progress has been made
Still poking at the past and reaching for your mother's sleeve
But she has rested for nearly a decade and it's time you do the same
YOU ARE READING
Vital
PoetryFeatured on @WattpadPoetry's reading list Stygian Skies and @CoffeeCommunity's Cappuccino reading list. A poetry book that trembles with fear, explodes with rage, and loves with everything it has. It tries to make sense of the past and explores trau...
