Feeling Like A Dead Leaf
Self-conscious breaths unfold through the forest within my chest, an avalanche tips off and drops. Plop into the pond of my fears it rips a ghost faceless in my inner rowdiness. The room is overcrowded with action and noise it's hard to grasp true connection. I feel like a torn bed sheet stripped from my comfort scattered from my alone solitude. Feeling skinless and yuck of unaddressed weight. Overpiled junk with crushing inner dialogue bashing myself in a closet. At times I feel drunk swaying above heavy floors kicking dead leaves at my feet. And then I wonder, what does it feel like to be a dead leaf? Nothing and everything!
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