Clara Anastasia
Aug 27, 2017 · 1 min read

My Unsteady Heart

How my mind is overpowering my soul
has reached to a point it no longer
controls my whole body; but it
kept on making mistakes on layers, bricks
over bricks; walls after walls
building a temple for my unsteady heart.

I can feel my guts run down from
the tip of my throat flowing, disturbing
my occupied bones
my lungs have tightened as it railed down,
introducing each of my body organ
a spoonful of high contained glucose.

I want to breathe sugar;
I want to grow flowers between
my screwing, preaching lungs,
my arteries couldn't be settled even just for a minute
for fact tendons to grow,
each time I accidentally drip my tear on
through wide air as foolish as a bigot a silent room.

My black unrestrained hair pumping, vigorous,
pitch black
a sound pretending everyone's a myth.

)
Clara Anastasia

Written by

i’m not sure what i write

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