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The Dark Ages Vol.3 The End Is Near? [Formerly "Blaring Thoughts"]

الشعر

I see a light at the end of the tunnel. I hope it's real. I hope I can make it. It's so far away. Will I make it? Will things finally be better?

#anxiety #emotional #feelings #life #mentalhealth #overthinking #poembook #poems #poetry #poetrycollection #sadpoems #thoughts #traditional

Egg

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Every day is the same but somehow worse. Day in day out trying to let the pain subside trying not to focus on the gashes and scratches. Like an egg slowly cracking, trying not to break. I'm 
cracking more and more with every hour that passes by trying to hold to the hate in limiting my anger, holding my tongue, only letting things slip when they need to like yolk slowly falling into 
a pan. How much more can I take before I fully break and get scrambled? How many times can you drop an egg before the yolk gushes out? Everybody drops me without stopping to think about what
will happen if I break. I'm getting tired of getting dropped, and I'm ready to pop. Who's going to stop me from popping? Who's going to clean up the mess when it all goes down. So many cracks I can
barely keep myself together. Each crack patched with a bandaid, covered with glue, and weak painkillers for every wound. Nobody likes the yolk, and neither do I. Nobody wants it. So why try 
and break the egg if you don't want to know what's inside? Push me to the edge, and you'll see what's inside. Even though we all know it's an unpleasent surprise. If we all want to avoid a mess, I 
suggest we stop poking each other because one of us might fall off the  counter.
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