Link reblogged from Conversing with Color with 70 notes
I am sick:
I do not know how, or why, or when it happened,
but I am sick.
My mind is falling off,
and my heart is growing old.
My body is breaking,
breaking down slowly.
I am angry:
I can’t explain why, or at whom, or when it will end,
but I am angry.
My knuckles are white,
and my lungs are…
Source: conversingwithcolor
This was featured in #Poetry