Though I am so tired
of being weighed down,
I'm scared of what type of
person I would be
if I hadn't gone through this.
I'm scared of the blind joy,
of the daydreamer I once was.
I'm afraid of being clueless again.
I wish I would have listened to her,
I could have spared myself this pain,
this terrifying numbness.
YOU ARE READING
Seeking Solace
Poetry"No One Sane writes a novel" "Now you see What's wrong with me." // Chicklit #366 Miscellaneous poems of a never ending sort.
