I don't feel like getting up from warm cozy bed; It was the only that that gave me comfort that I needed. I loved the sleepless nights of staring at the shadowed bright white ceiling embroidered with glowing stars wondering if I can escape this reality of the cruel world. I glanced at my clock from across the room that read: 6:47 a.m. The old me would have scrambled out my bed, wing on some eyeliner, and head out the door with my laptop charged and all my school supplies for school. But I changed into someone that no one recognizes, a dark person with a cloud of negatively hovering over her head in the search of some light. She sometimes finds it and embraces it but it leaves, but it always leave. I ask myself for the umpteenth time, What did I do to deserve this cruelty? Was it because the scars on my wrists? Or was it the fact that I am not Normal? Normal is having a healthy relationship with everyone and accepting what society thinks of you but I'm not normal because I despise talking and the stress of interacting with someone and the fact that I am to accepted by society. So I ask you my friend, am I considered normal or different?
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Disturbed Thoughts
PoetryI am a human being like no other, yet with a pinch of imperfection, a teaspoon of guilt, and a ocean of salted tears. Often called worthless and cursed to be six feet under. Living in the island of the forgotten lost, I'll tell you my disturbed thou...
