The Beach
I’d be lying to myself
if I said that I have been feeling well.
The truth is
I don’t feel well.
I feel sick and tired,
holding on by a thread
of my curly black hair,
hoping that I don’t murder me
by being a burden to you.
I’d be lying to myself
if I said that I have been feeling well.
The truth is
I don’t feel well.
I feel sick and tired,
holding on by a thread
of my curly black hair,
hoping that I don’t murder me
by being a burden to you.