@ 2010 somewhere

My hands are heavy,
My arms are numb
 I can’t sit here
My brain is freezing,
Body going taut.
 I can’t just sit here
I see it all breaking,
My life, my world, my truth
all twisting, all shakening.
With this broken soul of mine
Jacob I still sit here….

One of my meagre try-outs

13 thoughts on “Numb

  1. Viator says:

    Wow, this is great. Short, but in a way absolutely perfect. And you say you can’t write poetry. Girl this is on hell of a piece with a great ending

  2. awesome, ayooo. ya start of the poems reminded me of eminem song lose ya self
    ” His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
    There’s vomit on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti
    He’s nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready” :D

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