There are times I cannot write.
Things seem to crumble around me
and I need to leave.
There are times when my shirt's blue
matches the blue of my soul
and hurt and headaches
swallow me whole.
Sometimes I just need a friend.
Sometimes I need a hug.
Sometimes I just need both.
At certain days I feel down
and too weak to climb up.
At certain days anger shows up
and invites itself to spend the night.
Occasional days I feel really sad
and the white noise combined with the pain
becomes too real to stand.
When I'm away, though
life seems to start making sense;
take colour again.
Just that breath of fresh air fills my lungs
with new hope and coziness.
Just the pleasure of feeling free
makes me want to live again.
- V.
V