Stomped feels
Not knowing how to express i urged
Prevented them first and killed by thrust
I stomped over the feels and smashed our sorrow bieng such in agony I grew myself as if I am hollow,
cries turned to choke out from the day I remember now it’s just me and the cries draining me out in hall of tears, not out but in the dreadful way in..
souls screaming at there highest pitch
moaning over the lose we suffered.
Not knowing how to express i urged
Prevented them first and killed by thrust.
Now as i stand on the hall way
I have started to creak
I have started ranting and whining..
crying my heart out for all those things that happened and are happening with me right now
Feeling top notch as i did I’m a crybaby whom u may now try to ditch.
Not knowing how to express i urged
Prevented them first and killed by thrust.
Here by I write
here I go with the swift,
to jumble upon the words rumbling upon
to move to uplift.
The words inside swirls up like a current in an ocean with no end in our conscience.
By carving it upon my writings
I held peace with my therapy with therapist notebook - my dear diary.
© weathered_soul
Prevented them first and killed by thrust
I stomped over the feels and smashed our sorrow bieng such in agony I grew myself as if I am hollow,
cries turned to choke out from the day I remember now it’s just me and the cries draining me out in hall of tears, not out but in the dreadful way in..
souls screaming at there highest pitch
moaning over the lose we suffered.
Not knowing how to express i urged
Prevented them first and killed by thrust.
Now as i stand on the hall way
I have started to creak
I have started ranting and whining..
crying my heart out for all those things that happened and are happening with me right now
Feeling top notch as i did I’m a crybaby whom u may now try to ditch.
Not knowing how to express i urged
Prevented them first and killed by thrust.
Here by I write
here I go with the swift,
to jumble upon the words rumbling upon
to move to uplift.
The words inside swirls up like a current in an ocean with no end in our conscience.
By carving it upon my writings
I held peace with my therapy with therapist notebook - my dear diary.
© weathered_soul