I miss the old me.
The one who wasn’t afraid of going outside.
The one who doesn’t have shaky hands and a sweaty brow.
The one who thought what she was laughing about was funny.
The one who didn’t force smiles.
The one with no bags under her eyes.
I miss the care free child running in the sun with no fear of getting burned.
But she’s gone.
I miss the old me.
Source - unknown
YOU ARE READING
Suffering In Silence |✔|
PoetryA Book Full Of Poems. Someone Is Suffering In Silence. //\\//\\ 𝐒𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 I look at these scissors in my hand. Testing the blades with my fingertips. I poise the sharp blades over my wrist. I slowly push down, swiftly mo...
