i swallow chunks of slow despair/dead airi.i swallow chunks of slow despair/dead air1 week ago in Free Verse
we always look upwards, trying to pull the tears back in.
it takes more than a will to stop these unknown forces.
i paint my nails black and dress myself up pretty,
because black makes me happy and being pretty makes me forget i am sad.
my fingers shake.
it's because there is too much sadness within me.
or maybe i'm uncertain;
there could be a lot of uncertainty instead.
i want brown and blue-tipped hair;
a peacock-colored head
to make me seem more fabulous than i am on the inside.
i want my lips pale pink, to remind me of cotton candy
and ferris wheel rides.
the forest will fade away into my chest.
my lungs wail for the fullness of a copse of trees,
their branches tearing shriveled, stunted walls apart to reach for my larynx.
my head is bulletproof.
but what is the point if my heart isn't?