This poem was written one sunday, when I was thinking about how much grad school has torn me down, and built me up at times as well, but mostly torn me down. It is also in reference to how I feel my writing is the only place I can express myself at times, which sometimes makes it feel like a cage.
Wrecked
Wrecked
Is what I
Am lying on the floor
Broken open and
Spilling all my soul
Onto a paper
Cage
Ink
Dripping, my blood
Pooling, loops and swirls
Letters form in my
Hand stretched out
Desperate for a
Touch
Lost
Holding on to false
Hopes and shattered
Dreams in the night
Filling my head with
All I could be is
Gone
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