I can feel my soul banging from in side me, telling me to let it out, that it didn't ask to lead a boring life, that it wants to be set free. I put my hand on my heart, feeling it vigorously pumping blood of vain into my veins that part and part and part.
I smile forcefully because someone told me it makes you feel better. I don't feel better, but I tried and that's all matters. That's what people told me, who also told me it's ok even when I got fatter and fatter.
I'm ok, I told myself, though I'm a wreck, a salty sad ship at sea. I'm gonna experience a victorious vast view when the warping waves die down gradually then suddenly.
Eating. Drinking. Sleeping. I have trouble with every one of them but I try anyway because that's all that matters. I'll strive to become a successful lawyer or I'll sleep and sleep till I feel better. Probably the latter.
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YOU ARE READING
Turquoise Emotions
PoetryI am trying to cope with my chaotic, hectic self. These are my late-night thoughts.