Hiatus.
I'm on hiatus.
A break,
to interrupt my train of thought.
Constant. Constant.
Worrying.
High anxiety,
Purging,
but first.
Regurgitating
past,
present,
and whatever is in between.
I'll probably be admitted for caring too much about what others see.
Pray for me.
Allah, Buddah, God, or Lucifer.
I need some peace.
About the Creator
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The Sound That Carries Me
When I lie in bed, the train always finds me. The wheels slam against the tracks, loud and unforgiving, like something inside me that never learned how to rest. The horn cuts through the dark in broken intervals. Too close, too real, impossible to ignore. It drags me back to the fields of my childhood. Back when I thought life was simple. It wasn't. I just didn't have the language for how heavy it already felt. I was small, trying to survive things I didn't know how to name yet.
By Sarai Jakubczakabout 10 hours ago in Poets
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