Inside me, it's like there's a huge black hole in my chest that sucks all my vital energy, leaving me without the will to live.
It's like I'm barred from feeling, and the people around me don't understand that, as if somehow I'm to blame for this, but if I could change I guarantee it...
That it would never be intentionally like this.
I don't feel happy, even with tasks that comfort me and people who once wiped smiles off my face...
I don't feel angry, it's as if there was no importance in worrying about the things in life...
I don't feel afraid anymore, life is now scares me daily...
I don't feel sleepy, but I'm tired all day and I sleep,
I don't feel hungry, but I eat compulsively,
I feel bored even reading beautiful poetry...
There's no trace of emotion on my face, I look like a sculpture, without expression on the outside, and empty on the inside... Even with little emotion, sometimes, I cry in my room at night, trying to relieve even 1% of that tightness in my chest. The days pass with a lot of effort, nothing seems really worthwhile when I think about it.
And what really matters? Why are we here? What am I good for? Why do we give importance to the futile everyday things as if this were going to lead us to something?
I need answers...But I will die before I find.
Maybe none of that really matters, and we just invent the due importance according to what interests us... But what interests me?
I don't recognize myself anymore...
I don't remember if there was a time when I wasn't like this , in which I recognized myself and knew what I liked, a time when I could feel everything.
But if there was, I would give everything to go back.
People don't understand me, and actually, I don't think I want to, I don't want to be labeled weird or something, so I pretend, I put on a mask and pretend to be who I'm not.
I try to pretend to be"normal", but when I get home, I go back to my hole, and my mask breaks into pieces, leaving only crumbs of me...
If I could change everything, I swear, I would.
YOU ARE READING
dawn poems
Poetrysometimes in the dead of night we come across the deepest and most reflective thoughts, and however involuntary these may be, they are extremely complex. And that's what I want to share with you, I'm not a poet or writer but I think any thought is v...
