I don’t always write for you,

I write for the particles of air suffocating my heart.


They breathe like lead,

build up and create traps

pockets of stale air weighing me down,


it's stuffy in here

and my chest is heavy

air isn't circulating well to my brain

I feel light in my brain

blurry in my thoughts


butterflies in my spine

tears almost in my eyes

heat around my ears,

but my skin is cold,

like a breeze is running over my epidermis.


I don’t always write for you,

sometimes I need to write for parts of me.

Amanda EdwardsComment