Poems from YBRJordan
are you okay?
- am i supposed to be?
well, that’s subjective.
music was my drug.
it numbed me enough to make it.
i didn’t feel anything anymore.
i hadn’t felt anything in a long time—
or at least...
i just needed something to drown out the silence that i had surrounded myself in.
my feelings that were written on the walls weren’t loud...
i wrote my thoughts on the walls but they still kept me in my mind.
let me rephrase that—
i wrote my thoughts on the walls but i was still...
the only time i was at peace was when i accepted the only way i would get out of my mind was in a casket six feet under.
but you never saw...