A Series continued
If you must be then be
All good
The art tries to create itself
Muse be damned
The poem has determined
That is a lie
If you must be then be
All good
The art tries to create itself
Muse be damned
The poem has determined
That is a lie
It feels like flushed cheeks and pulsating jawbones It feels empty It feels like blood rapidly popping as it travels from heart It feels like nothing It feels like under/over eating It feels like a vo
The anxiety makes the stomach flip The depression makes the limbs heavy The tug and pull Is overwhelming and nauseating Gags Short breaths Teeth chattering Big sighs as tears roll down