Abstract: Write It Out
A thousand sensations feel better than this,
cool wind on my face,
the warm sun on a cold day.
The cool splash of a water fall in the summer,
and a hug from my momma.
Finishing a good book,
mowing the lawn,
or watching the sun drop with a friend after a hike.
Down a more sinister road,
being drunk or stoned is better than this.
Destroying glass jars on the road behind my house carries a satisfaction too.
But sitting alone in despair,
anger coursing through my veins,
feeling so weak and useless,
my breath catches in my chest.
I want to spill my violence on the world and share my pain.
