top of page

everything's shifted 3 centimetres to the left

i feel like a puzzle piece jammed into the wrong spot

because i guess it fits a little doesn't it? just not

quite right 

and i think i might

not even be part of this jigsaw puzzle at all

but then under which category do i fall? 

is it a 3 or 5 hurricane? 

156 miles per hour towards god knows where 

and i'm fucking scared

because how do i stopstopstopstopstopsto

but i'll be okay (right?)

this feeling will go away (it might)

i feel like a snagged thread one pull away from coming unraveled 

and where i've traveled? 

i'm told you could only dream of

and it sure does 

feel like a dream or a daze or a grey haze

or some sort of limbo 

i'm alive though

maybe i'm pandora's box with rusted locks

cause i just feel like all my worries are sealed away in a glass jar except the lid 

is screwed on wrong

and the glass is not strong

enough to contain them 

so it cracks and bends 

until i break

am i even awake? 

because days and nights i'm just asleep

i'd rather be 

i feel like when you just wake up groggy from a nap at 2pm or maybe it's already 6 or 8

months later and

disoriented and not quite sure where or when i am 

and i feel tired and drained down the sink 

i can't really think 

it doesn't feel right and it brings more feelings like

everything's shifted just 3 centimeters to the left 

only slightly off and further away from right and 

so unimpressed 

with myself really, the spotlight's just too bright

and maybe my voice is better off trapped in a sea witch's seashell necklace 

it's so reckless 

to let these kinds of thoughts in but my doors wide open unlocked and the welcome mat won't stop 

greeting insecurities with open arms 

and blaring alarms 

mixed with a million different echoes and screams at once but it's


deafening quiet 

and this is not my place

10 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

the romantic

i wish i didn’t see poetry in the freckled constellations scattered across your face i wish the flooding of metaphors and similes would at least slow their pace i wish i didn’t see how the leaves danc


today’s the kind of day of bricks weighed on my chest and choking on the lyrics and gasping for one breath it sounds like voice cracks over piano can’t even sing through a sad song my shaky legs and f


bottom of page