writing

Quarter-life crisis

With every difference and individual exposing my inexperience,
I find myself picking up the fragile pieces left of me.

Piecing together the significance of an existence tethered and measured
by the pressures of an unloving world draped in its own pain.

Undeniably scarred and redefined,
by the struggles of the human experience.

– E.M

How it Feels to Fall

The moment those promises of new became hopes for change, I started sinking.
Everyday had its reminders of my shine, dulled by the just as damaged.

There’s nothing worse than drowning in your own mess.

And it wasn’t until the consequences started showing their faces that I had started taking my breathes more cautiously.

– E.M