identity

Tell me a new story, but that story I do not believe

By on • ( 6 Comments )

I sold my soul

For a few pennies on the dollar

Now everything is dark

Now everything is corroded

The pen I touch

The desk I hit my head against

The floor I tap dance on

Rusted, busted, and blue

Tell me a new story

But that story I do not believe

I need not believe

Hence, I will not

I sold my soul

And it corrodes my heart

I know it is all false

And the physicality is piercing

Tell me a new story

Or tell me not

Time to unwind to a new tale

Categories: identity, mental health, photography, Poetry, Psychology

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