You're holding back screams and your throat is killing you
The tears stream down your face as your mind spins
Wondering,
What if I did something right?
What if I wasn't so weird?
Why am I so sensitive?
I'm getting jealous of the good
because I'll never be like them
They say I'm okay
But I'm no Van Gogh
For I'll never be good
And nobody knows it
My sensitivity reached higher levels the more you break me
I hate it
That's why I'm isolated
I'm the worst person you could ever meet
I make lives worse, cause drama and just about ruined my family
I just want you to know
I'm not dying
just kinda crying
YOU ARE READING
Flowers & Dandelions
PoetryLies, hurt, mistakes. I despise of them all. They break and hurt you. Always destroying you. At least, destroying me.... This book used to be 'The Truth' but I decided to change it
