Freedom
Confidence
Neither are mine.
Trapped in a hell that's suppose to be my home.
It's an uncomfortable environment,
the worst at it's best.
Laughter breaks out when I think
to put on clothes,
to look in the mirror,
to face myself
could cause such pain.
Who knew one could be filled with such self-hate?
In rare occasions, I love what I see
but is that truly what I believe?
Those glimpses of hope seems far and few between,
almost nonexistent.
Who are we if we can't even love and know ourselves?
What am I do when this body doesn't make me feel safe?
***
This poem is a combination of lines I wrote in 2018 and thoughts I have now. It reminds me of what I said last chapter that the end of this book is a bridge to the beginning. A lot of my has changed and clearly so has my writing but some parts still remain. Some demons stay the same.
~ Have you ever written on your notes app on your phone?
Isn't that a handy app?!!
Have a radiant day!
D.O.
YOU ARE READING
Our Summer : My Truth
PoetryI am broken And now that you see, what you've allowed to happen to me The evils you have forced into my existence Self-serving evils now defying you with such persistence You try to cover up your lies Dangling hope in front of my eyes ~~~ I wri...
