My body is a band.
The beat of my drumming heart,
The repetitive shudder of my breathing,
The rhythmic growl of my stomach,
When it begs for food,
All of it,
Is music to my ears.
Thudding loudly, over the sound of the tears,
Exhaling softly, over the constant exhaustion,
Twisted grumbles, over the lack of food.
All of it,
It tried to sound like music,
But was turned into a mess.
My body tried to be a band,
And failed,
In the presence of a friends,
Even a lover's arms,
It was no longer music.
It was just a plead,
A cry for help,
From the system,
That couldn't run itself.
YOU ARE READING
Just A Mess
PoetryI'm not too sure as to what this is, but I often get bored and lost in my thoughts, so why not write them out? As I wrote I created poetic sentences, lines and phrases. So, I hope they can be enjoyed despite their mainly heavy topics. This book cove...
