Have you ever left a bunch of cups in your room?
Half empty.
Not, definitely not
half full but half empty.
Of different things that you once were drinking
but when you choked up on it
or it became lukewarm
you left it to sit.
Soon the room fills,
you can hardly breathe without knocking a cup over.
So you let them knock over,
one by one
and now
now you are drowning
in this room of cups, and lukewarm liquid.
This room is me
These cups,
they hold my problems.
YOU ARE READING
Thinking
PoetryI am a ball of different thoughts. Positive, Negative. Here is where I'll dump them. Whatever I'm going through is what I'll be writing so there may be periods of poems just about a certain topic, I apologize.
