There's something about feeling like you're not really on the planet at all.
The screaming sound of silence while you blare wavelengths of emotion through your headphones.
The savory scent of a blossoming Spring season while you drown out every supersonic speed of light down an interstate.
The creeping chills of a cool, crisp night while you twist and turn along a concrete path back to the place that almost feels like home.
It's in these times when I know I'm alive, but am I really here?
- And do I really want to be?
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of the unProtected
PoetryPoetry pieces that I've collected in my notes and would like to share (as scary as that is).
