4:39 pm
"are you okay?" they would ask.
"i'm fine."
i would smile bright.
but oh, if they really knew.
the pain i went through.
the feeling of being on the verge of wanting to die, the verge of a war about to start in my mind. it feels like i'm constantly fighting; but nobody is there to help, i've got no hand to hold. i'm at the bottom of the ocean, trying to swim to the top but the weight of everything is tangled at my feet, drowning me. i can't escape. so no, i'm not fine. but it's not like you'll care - like you'll ask twice.
the words i'm fine, shouldn't even exist. it's just an act, but hey, maybe i should win an Oscar with the talent i have to do it. cause apparently i do it well.
YOU ARE READING
intoxicated // poetry || 01
Poetry[ book 01 - completed ] emotions are not meant to be bottled up, and i knew at the second your breath intoxicated my lungs, that emotions were meant to be wild, spread out, and if you can survive the journey, it'll be one hell of a story. ███████...
