It's hard to say,
When you're not actually "fine".
Watch as you fail to cross the finish line.
It's hard to talk,
About how you're tired of trying,
When you're on the bathroom floor crying.
It's hard to speak,
When you're overthinking in your car,
Obsessing on how to heal your soul's scares.
It makes people uncomfortable to know something is wrong.
What if it makes them not like you?
What if it makes them feel like you're "too much"?
What if it makes them walk away?
Oh how I woefully wonderful,
What if?
What if?
What if?
And so let me be clear.
I will not show you my tears.
Let me point out.
I will swallow my doubts.
Let me assure you.
I feel my pain alone.
All the hurt others give,
I feel alone.
I cry alone.
I heal alone.
I don't want them to go, so I won't let them see.
That I am so god damn lonely.
Tired of having to lock the door.
All alone, I weep on my white tiled bathroom floor.
And that is fine with me.
YOU ARE READING
Wallflowers and the Door To Nowhere
PoetryThis poetry book is of some of my poetry. This is a work in progress, because I have many poems, I will publish one poem each chapter. The name of the chapter will also be the poem's title. I will try and post five poems a day, sorry ahead of time i...
