Laura Barnes

Over on the edge, tear after tear is falling, down and Heavy on my face, my hands are slipping, slippery from the sweat I can’t help stop. Why’d I choose a Monday? Like they had to become more miserable, especially for everyone watching, all crowded under the overpass. Consuming this selfish depressing reality, I hear sirens drawing closer, probably over a dozen calls placed now. It’s ironic how late they choose when to care, when for so long, I have been crying so loud.

Laura Barnes · Follow 1 min read · -- One day, When my bones are fragile and brittle, When my soul lays bare, staring, uncovered, and naked, When all my skin, fat, muscles, and all my flesh lay upon the ground, I shall rise with the sun just once more before I take my leave up to Heaven’s gates, And I shall pick apart everything of me, I shall roll, touch, and feel between each wrinkle upon my brain, Searching for what I need, The answer I could not find when I was alive and breathing, And I...

Laura Barnes · Follow 2 min read · -- The chapters that I live through were written long before me, the book in which my story is in, has been told many times, long before the thought of my breath and body, It was the writing that I was bound to become, It was words that I was destined to define, and everyone knows the best-selling life of mine, after all, it’s been quite a popular piece for the longest time, and my hand aches as I copy down my future, but I refuse to stop writing, and I...