It starts out
With a single
Thought.
With a single
Crave.
With a since
Wish.
We hope for
Something happy,
To get us
Along the day,
And soon,
It becomes something
Darker.
We then start
To think
Wrong of
Ourselves.
Point out
Our flaws and
Judge ourselves
Silently.
Soon thoughts
Over whelm you.
They tell you,
That you don't
Look good,
Or you will never
Be good
Enough.
These things come
From us,
And we don't stop
It.
We pray
For a moment
Of peace
And joy,
But it never
Really
Comes.
I should know.
Because when I look
Into the mirror
In the closed
Bathroom,
With my shirt off,
And listen to
The family
Achievements;
I know,
That my single,
Thought,
Craving,
Wish,
Takes over.
أنت تقرأ
Hands covered in paint.
عشوائيDip your hands into multicolored paint and write the words with your fingertips. (I don't know what I'm doing. I guess this poetry stuff. Leave good things! ~Windy)
