Lying on The Therapist's Couch
Coming off the chest
and through the mouth
after a million
(probably billion)
hours
of self denial
of disastrous smiles
Can I now
fully commit
to admitting
This is hell?
The face
I grace
always stood
in the way
shooting sighs
that pierce
like armor
piercing rounds
The same old skin
The same old stare
The same old
same old
If I shrieked
would I finally
have a life?
poem by Justin Tallman Gonzalez
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.