Two Lover's entwined
Under the clear starry skies
The mountain's secrets
About the Creator
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When “f” Eats, It Spells Feat
I can hardly breathe. The sadness in my throat is as tight as a rope that has been tied in a dozens knots. The muscles in my face attempt to move, but they are as a stagnant pond. I try to swallow but I just feel exhausted. Putting my feet on the floor, feels like an impossible feat. This is not how I was supposed to be as an adult at all. I was supposed to grow up and be confident, energetic and happy, not depressed.
By Rowan Finley 2 days ago in Poets
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