I lay in bed,
My comforter over my eyes,
Trying not to cry.
Forced to stare at photos,
Of my nose and forehead,
Why I came to bed.
Gone and afraid,
Wishing to curl in a little ball,
Not wanting to be on call.
But here I am,
I've made this my own choice,
Afraid to raise my voice.
Longing for confidence
A need to feel self-secured
But instead I'm a little ball called insecure.
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12 AM Thoughts || Original Midnight Poetry
PoetryDo you ever smile at 12 AM, staring at the moon, Watching as stars glisten by, Coloring the darkness Only for the sun to take them away too soon? Wonders so full of amusement at the night sky, Smiling at 12 AM With an imagination And hearts full of...
