I was told since beginning to breathe. Outside the loathing empty voice.
Like a romantic bud blossoming under the clear sky.
I knew i had some issue. I was often mad.
People called me anxious.
And life vomited every disgusted feeling, a black hole on my face.
I survived that.
i survived my anxiety.
The hollow arch of turpentine water did amaze me.
Somedays, the summers ring into my ears like a blade.
i had seizures too in the past. The ones that would burn my entire body
I became a quiet monologue, left to flip through times.
And often, I would swim among the pages of words,
words of my rummaging eyes, seeking nothing but love.
nothing but life,
oh, that life.
Iterative steps to defy this melancholy.
I rest this white clapping body onto the walls of poetry now.
it holds me like a lover.
In honor of- world poetry day.
Also, I like to keep my punctations just the way it is. (i=I)