Warnings: Low self-esteem/self-hate
I have a secret habit that
I thought you ought to know
It's simple and it's silly but
It started long ago
Each year upon my birthday I
Wait up as others sleep
Watching as the time ticks by
Without a single peep
Until at last the clock hits twelve
And it is the next day
"Happy not birthday" I wish
The only thing I say
Maybe you can't understand
Or you cannot relate
To knowing that you're special but
For just a single date
And so I celebrate myself
Where nobody can see
Fearing, thinking, knowing that
No one likes me for me
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Poems to Leave Streaks of Ink
PoesíaAnd I'd rage at the monsters, But that's the task of fools, Who cannot bring themselves to know, Monsters are humans' tools... I write poems like this, just usually longer...feel free to give some of them a read:)
