growing and growing
I am the beat of my heart
fighting the wind of the fan at
two in the morning
the heartbeat is a reminder.
whenever I'm dead because of the thoughts
that often pop up
inside my head
the steady echoing in my chest
reminds me of what's left
i am their sunrise
i am not a ghost
i am more than my mother's perfume
i am still a child
i am growing.
This poem is about:
Me