I feel bad putting up yet another dark poem, but this is just how I’ve been feeling, and it’s all I have been able to write about so I’m sorry if it’s a lot. I’ll try to post something more cheery next time. But at the present moment, this is what I feel.
Heavy
Why is it that guitars and drums are the only things tethering me to life?
I have become too heavy,
All of my other supports seem to have left.
Now I’m hanging over the edge with riffs and clashing noise tied around my waist—
Holding a limp cadaver.
It sways in the breeze,
Set off by any wayward noise or thought.
Yet its weak fingers still clutch the thinning rope,
The horns and strings still pulsing.
Amazing poem
but i hope u feel more happier : )
lol me too