Shifting2 mins 259 2 mins 259
The words don't come easy to me
Take this for an instance
The course of this poem,
It takes different forms
As it moves along.
During the day, when the darkness
Of my thoughts brings out
Things from the drawers I don't want to open
Whilst keeping the positive aside
Shut in a box, locked thrice
And kept under the bed.
I see my veins
Popping up on my skin
Tracing along them gives me
A tingling feeling, like they don't belong there
They want to break free.
On other days they become a passenger
Running in a course, hoping to pump the blood to my heart,
Just in time and not even missing it out.
I think about this too much that at times I forget how to breathe.
My anxiety is like a man in a black coat
Walking in a crowded area
Whispering horrible things hoping
One of those people will believe him and
Join him in his quest to haunt feelings.
I see the man in the black coat now running into the classroom,
Shouting and telling everyone to leave
Closing the door shut
I sat there face to face with him.
I trace my veins and they feel like a bamboo shoot
Making me aware of the fact that there's life within
This skeleton with skin has a heart that beats 72 beats a minute.
It scares me so much, I forget how to feel.
The man in the black coat storms out and fades away.
This poetry shift to different forms,
How many did you keep up with?