Nothing hurts more than your father commenting on how sad you look but you denying it because it would hurt more to confirm his worries for you so you show strength when all you want to do is be weak and held in strong arms who actually care for you yet you refuse to show any emotion and blame how tired you are even though you're dying inside and the words are on the tip of your tongue and tears ready to burst like a waterfall from the desert of your eyes but you swallow your pride and smile so he can too. A run on sentence yes but this was the moment I realized that I feed everyone's happiness but my own. And I've never craved change before but this feels like anger. Good anger.
s.w. // 12:08 a.m.
YOU ARE READING
My brain talks too much
PoetryMy mind is exhausting, even sleep isn't a relief. Here are things I rarely get time to write.
