I am my own GRAVE
A Poem or a CRY FOR HELP?
I huff and puff
for reasons unknown
I have been running
from something in me
Dissected at all angles,
my breath a strangle
I exist, I am aware
I wonder if I’m alive
If I am,
I pay a surcharge to survive
Like a tombstone,
white marbles, and intricate designs
I am beautiful and haunting
at the same time
All pearls drained
I am a colorless cave
my existence a tragedy
I am my own grave
My clothes a coffin,
footwear a trap
A shadow greets me
with a violent grasp
My veins have forgotten
the ability to make flow
I lay, don’t want to
want to, but don’t want to,
my elaborations a joke
Depression came tiptoe
now its in excess,
converted me to a skin
burnt black and red
My voice, a catastrophe
my tears bring annoyance
I aspire to seek help,
all the languages seem foreign
My dreams a conundrum
my head a turmoil
over-thinking a signature
my head, an exile
Too much to fix,
I am out of wrenches and duct tapes
I make more holes
in me to respirate
All pearls drained
I am a colorless cave,
my existence a tragedy
I am my own grave
