deepundergroundpoetry.com
Pieces
Words scratch at my throat
Screeching; like nails on a chalk board
Every time I'm asked "What's wrong?"
My emotions
Rising and falling as waves would
Clashing while a storm grows and surrounds me
My friends? Gone.
They were never really there
My thoughts rise
Clouding up like dirt after trucks speed bye
My comfort with living?
It's like a missing child
Lost & confused
Even my mental standards are low
You build me up, make me confident
Like a crowd cheering on their idolized rock star
Then break me down like little pieces of gravel
To nothing...
Love you too!
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