Write about the fact that you're always skeptic
Always alert and conscious
Having a hand ready on the door, on the knob
One inconvenience and a reason to run
You never let your walls down,
The best is maybe a glass holding you apart
You're so close yet afar
You're used to impermanence
Always looking for a condition to leave
Uncomfort seething in your teeth
You're waiting for someone to hurt you,
Give you a reason to hate, a reason to live
You wish to feel for the first time, blood lust, rage, disgust or even hate—
Whatever helps you exist
Don't you want your presence to hold importance
Yet, you're still a bug walking away in this summerness
So small and irrelevant
You find yourself looking for the doorknob again
Maybe staying isn't an option,
No matter how much you yearn well
If welcoming others doesn't help,
You resort to the lingering uneasiness
Making bonds is useless, getting your strings attached
Perhaps escaping early is truly the best
YOU ARE READING
Unsaid words
Poetry"Is happiness really a myth". A collection of the most cherished pieces of my soul: my poems. The things I wrote when I loved, when I hated, when I raged, when I dared and when from reality, I escaped. My poems are a way for me to get away from the...
