The Essence Of Who I Am

My anger comes tumbling out like the wet clothes in an open door dryer

I hate poetry but i’m not allowed to say that

Because that’s likes saying I hate oxygen

I wouldn’t be alive without it even though it really is killing me slowly

I’m just mad and instead of throwing plates on the floor words smash into me

I get cut on the glass and the words bleed right out of me

It haunts me

Poetry is a terrible ghost keeping me up with his reminders

Like your trauma is still traumatizing

You are so tired but it doesn’t matter

You stay up all night and still don’t feel empty

So you choke down thawed ice cream

The crack of dawn is blinding

I want to sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep and be woken up like sleeping beauty

Treated like a princesses routinely

God knows I deserve it but he moves mysteriously

I’m supposed to be reading and the baby is sleeping

And instead of resting and laughing

I’m writing and dying and breathing

I’m tired of breathing so freely that release of fresh air feels so daunting

I’m trying my best but that doesn’t seem to be working

Googling what to do when your brain is self sabotaging

You would think I would have run out of words but they just keep coming

Like continuous vomiting

My teeth are clenching

Please stop

I want my sadness to stop spilling

M.A.P

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