Glass artery's break within,
as my heart hymns to the music that broke my scars.
As if the pumping was the unsteady breaks, bringing me down from the mountain.
I was in the stars,
but I'm fastly cascading down.
I'm slowly but surely coming down.
As if the tops clean air replaced the addiction that I've breathed in.
As if the view makes up for the lost time that I kept within.
The time that only gets longer, as I continue to roam.
Leaving you behind with all the forgotten homes,
Because I built one out of pottery,
But no one told me that it was the same as my glass arteries.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Of Me, Sorry.
PoetryJust everyday, unconventional, uplifting, relatable, sad writings. Take a journey through my head. **warning-may make you unconsciously slip into a corner alone, with sad music drowning you through your headphones**
