My name is a word and my life feels like death.
My life is a mess and sometimes I can't breathe.
I don't know why I feel this way because I don't want to.
A shamble of words spills out of my mouth.
I can't seem to think straight and I need a path.
Somewhere that I can go and be myself.
A place where I can fall into a lake and have my thoughts to myself.
Or a pond where I can sink and explore the new.
Maybe even a stream that can take me on a journey.
I have a dream sometimes when I can do anything.
I wish I could really do that.
YOU ARE READING
Poems Of A Misfit.
SpiritualIf it's bad then why is it sweet? If it's fake then why do I like it? A secret recipe of danger. Disaster in disguise ready to go. If a smile crosses your face it's not genuine but if you laugh it's real. Too much to handle. Lick your lips and grin...
