The usual knot in my stomach forms again, as I stop abrubtly. The familiar pain in my body being too much as I will it to go away.
Am I dying?
I think I'm dying mentally.
Maybe I'm exaggerating
but I'm not sure, I could be dying.
Running on low sleep,
Each time I close my eyes
Your face fills my mind
Suddenly I'm struggling to breath again.
Just sink further into the tub,
And take a moment to breathe
And dwell on the good memories
And hope to make more.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry and Drabbles
PoetrySo when I'm depressed or having a block for my stories I write little poems or little tid bits of sentences that I find intriguing. A lot less cringy than my stories and probably better work so yeah, whack.
