And so we disembark into the crowded hall-ways

piranhas dead on our heels

it hurts but we shuffle on, what for other choice is there?

Day to day, with pieces cut out

The bitter salt fermenting in our lungs

"We can live without!", "The sun will rise again!"

And so we disembark into the crowded hall-ways; pinhas dead on our heels

We take in the bitter salt, and hope that in time our wounds will heal.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741