𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

A love, past infinity.

Pity. A sorrowful feeling I wish for you not to see when your eyes glance toward me..

If I could make my life into a documentary, it'd be filled with wishful thinking, depressing being and pathetic meaning.

To the public eye, boring. To me, any and every dream I've been able to try and reach.

My feelings are the things that confuse me the most besides my own personal being.

A pill I swallow everyday, is a strong dose of, not knowing how to be okay.

As if sadness is a drug and I'm hooked, searching for my next fix every time I open up a book.

How can I be impacted by a fictional character and my mental being made dysfunctional by my trying to climb a ladder.

A ladder to touch the sky and have the ability to drop the rain as it builds up in the clouds, floating me higher than any feeling of loud.

Pity.

To be me is seeing and having sympathy for every living and non living thing and or being.

I am pity.

Carrying the weight of hurt people on my back, and walking with the weight of all the things I lack, giving and giving, while I still feel I've slacked.

A day where I don't stress, a day where God wants me to see how blessed I am, I can't help but to feel as if I'm still less.

Pitiful.

Now you're looking at me just as I see me.

What good will the world do for me if I can't even get past the distorted figure I see.

How the world will break me, singing that same mournful song, and filling my ears with false purposes and meanings of where I belong because when I see me, I begin to hum along, and soon, all hope will be lost.

I asked myself, why can't I write poetry of happy things. Like, the sun and how much joy it brings or the water and how I like to hear it leak from the sink, the feeling of calmness that it brings.

My answer was clear to me.

My hold on the past has done nothing but strengthened.

As I try to move forward, I carry these bags, showcased under my eyes, and I pick up weight in my thighs, allowing my body to cover up the lies I've allowed myself to believe as true.

Here I am again.

Covering up my heavy dealings with the color blue.

So, when I look at you, I am what I should be for me.

No it's not pity, it's just a love, from deep within,

all the way past infinity.

- Donna