Exhausted.
Why do I never seem as good as them?
Why am I being surpassed?
When did this happen?
What have I become?
My fingers stumbling over words and notes,
my mouth deciding it's time to sever connections,
My emotions...
Oh god, where do I start?
The easiest things are setting me off.
Certain people making me sick from worry.
A person's touch making me forget my day.
I have transformed and
I don't know if I want to go back.
I'm conflicted between rational thoughts
and that nagging voice in the back of my head.
I didn't ask for this.
I want to be able to control myself,
not exhaust myself.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of the (not-so) Heartless
PoetryOriginal poems by a girl torn apart by other people and herself just trying to survive in this thing we call Society.
