I wonder if the earth feels ugly and thinks of us as sores and the rivers are her tears. And the ocean is her blood, constantly churning and trying to get rid of the bile that appears in the form of plastic. I wonder if earthquakes are her sobs, her heaving cries of help from among the stars. I wonder if volcanic eruptions are when she's been hiding her emotions for so long that it all comes out in one, awful disaster.
So the question remains:
Are our thoughts our own miniature worlds, full of emotion, or is the nature of humanity within Earth's heart?
~HoO_and_bands
8/26/15 12:44 AM
YOU ARE READING
Paralyzed
PoetryOkay, this started out as a thought book, turned into a rant book, and so far, it's become a thought book again. How many other changes will it go through, I don't know, nor do I care. This is sort of a public journal but not really because I hate t...
