PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This pressure knows no boundaries
No rules
I sure could use
a coach to guide me
cause there’s a big chance I might lose
my inner truth
and that’s why I abuse this toxic juice
in my recluse
alone accompanied
by solitude
cause chances are we’re all feeling battered
wounded , sore and bruised
so I don’t complain
kept it contained
now I’m running out of room

so I'm looking for
something external
an outlet some extra space
someone to turn to

but all I can find is the notebook
I keep as a journal
the stress has started showing
and the clues are non verbal

and that reality sets off a timer
If I’m sharper cause I’m older
Why does my brains feel like
they've been put through the grinder?

And even the minor
things sets me off
despite writing myself a reminder
that I need to be kinder
but I’m itching to leave the next man with a shiner
its my day off but I cant lay still on the recliner
why sugarcoat it?
stress is a primer
life is a mindfuck
my brain is the vagina!!!!!!!!!!!