If people could say their hearts out,
Wouldn’t it be easier?
Why would you keep it hidden,
Bludgeoning your own consciousness into submission,
Living another day of slow torture and relentless thoughts,
Why are words be words if not utilized properly,
Changing facts, hiding the truth, words used in different ways entirely,
Why are we weak in speaking what’s inside,
What is there that is so fragile, it needs to hide,
Can’t you scream it out?
Can’t you hear your soul exploding in ranges of sound,
The emotions raises thunder and it wanted attention,
It screeches, howls, bold and loud,
Words are meant to be said in proud,
Not to slander nor infuriate,
If the truth hurts, then let time heal it away,
Take it by the face, walk on,
There are so many words that could lead us astray,
But the ones inside our heads are immutable,
We live, as long as our ideas persists.
We are the living dream of our consciousness.

Someone who writes a lot of poetry. Shit or not, they're mine. I'm also a lazy ass traveler. Stick and stone may break my bones, but staircases, they get me.
Posts created 51

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