Something wasn't quite right...
Like there was something off with the world I saw through my eyes.
I couldn't quite place it...
But the feeling wouldn't leave,
Like bugs crawling under my skin.
I could feel them but nobody else could,
Because they were in my veins,
Nobody else's.
They see the world they've always seen,
But mine sometimes changes,
Little things...
Maybe it's something with my eyes.
Maybe I'm just crazy.
YOU ARE READING
The Mind of a Teenage Outcast
Poetry//My second poetry book// Poetry about Depression/Self harm/Anxiety/Suicide and generally sensitive topics Possibly triggering Please read my first poetry book Brøken/Depressed Pøems Thanks *my own poems* Rankings - #221 in poem ...
