Not Cool, Not Calm, Not Collected
The buzzing;
The knocking.
Zero silence upon this bed.
Routine, it should bring silence.
But the shrieks from inside me makes yells.
Loud yells;
Without the screams within this head.
On the surface calm.
And on the surface, alive.
Yet the war inside my head consistently puts the tranquil on the sidelines.
Copyright © Christina Rose | Year Posted 2015
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