I wish I could fix everything, everyone, however my human instincts hunger for the conflict of nature divided. My brain melts, but sometimes I don't want to scoop it off the floor. And my brain chases its own tail for that and beats itself up even harder. But I need to remember that life is art. It is beyond what we can describe in our own primitive meaning. We can burn it up in flames, or keep drawing until we run out of space.
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Author:
Polybius (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 18th, 2017 12:39
- Comment from author about the poem: After a day with five different breakdowns. With guilt, the feeling of not being good enough and suicide as the main themes of each. I reflect what happened that day, the day I only survived because my makeshift noose fell, and I cried and screamed for what felt like hours. I want people to have hope. I want people to see that you can push on.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 23
Offline)
Comments1
If your drawing is as good as your writing, you will have no problem to paint a masterpiece!
Im an artist, just not a very good one. Thanks.
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