Years spent dreaming of this
But what if its an illusion?
That I'm truly dreaming and one day I wake up to my cold room
What if my skin is too hard?
And these involuntary stone walls are too tough?
Too thick to be broken by your soft touch?
What if I am truly a bad person?
Rotten on the inside like they said
I was always so quick to caution
But I find myself hesitant
Because what if you heed my warning
And I lose my sunshine?
What if I'm truly undeserving of happiness?
And my hands are too hard
And my voice is too loud
To cradle you and make you feel safe
I thought I'd know exactly how to act
But now I'm holding a crystal ball
Showing me a beautiful possibility
And so fragile
I don't want to trip
But, honey, I don't know how to fly
YOU ARE READING
We Became The Mad Men
PoetryI must wash the blood off my hands and the only way is with ink ~ Collection of my poetry.
