Some days
my words
are like
water.
Sweet or salty
like the atlantic ocean.
Some days
they are
calm,
other days
they're overfloating me
in crashing waves.
Sometimes
my words
are like
fire.
They seem
to burn my throat
if I'd speak.
Even if I write,
they keep turning
paper
into ashes.
These days
even paper can't handle my words.
These days
are hurting me
the most.
YOU ARE READING
Wondering
PoetryThis may be burning, crashing or hurting. But these are my words. This is me.
