Pain.
You grow up with it.
It becomes a part of life.
But hidden as you grow old.
Smile.
Smile again.
"He's all smiles"
Pain.
Subconsciously handling it.
More weed.
More liquor.
More LSD.
More.
Even they don't heal the deep cuts.
You know you're depressed.
You know it's not healthy.
But you're already in pain.
So why not.
Why. The. Hell. Not.
You're doing so well for yourself.
So easy to forget.
Forgotten.
It doesn't matter.
It never does.
Does it? Yes.
Hope.
Keep hoping.
It's what kept you alive.
It's what keeps you alive.
And it will continue to do so.
Because everything else.
Sports.
Family.
Friends.
Her.
They can't keep you alive.
Hope keeps you alive.
YOU ARE READING
Silence
PoetryWhat's it mean to be human? What's it mean to feel? Both good questions depending on who you ask. This line up of poems are my experiences of being human and how I feel and have felt.
