Poems from This Air is insecure
Voices overlap as I sit patiently in this dim yellow room.
They speak of me as if I am not here.
They mention my weaknesses.
More words...
I am standing here.
Not really knowing what door to open.
Every moment feels like a stab leaving invisible cuts.
Each person looks like the...
I'm sitting here
Looking at me
Trying to figure out
What you can see
When I'm deep inside
My inner shell
Crying at all
That brought
You...
My mind is filled
like a finger paint canvas.
The colours, mixed in.
The designs, original.
The total result is
not what the artist...
The cuts are the
spoils from war.
They decorate us
with meaning
and stories.
The scars that are left,
are memories
nearly forgotten.
Slowly...