Today is one of those days that I struggle with SLC. This is a rough piece that I jotted down about my own personal conflict with SLC.
My blood is hot and the water
boils against my skin. The cool wave
of wind holds tight to my skin,
breathing through my clothes
and outlining my body.
You look up into the sky and wonder
if there is anything at all, I say,
don’t bother looking, does it
My bones begin to crack under
the strain of living in a city
built over plains. A synthetic
place made of hopes and tears,
fake a smile and let it all
go, this place died long ago.
If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing! I hope you return in the future!