Everything's a mess,
I keep trying not to get upset,
All this regret
Shouldn't belong to me,
Even though I'm the only one,
Whose lost in all this pity.
It's still me.
Even my protection hurts me,
I know there are people who want to help me,
But I still feel alone.
It's almost like what I feel either;
Can't be understood;
Or is understood too much,
Which makes me feel more fucked up.
Searching, seeking,
Struggling.
I'm attempting to find a way
To sort this Hell out.
Day by day,
I wonder if it's only getting
Worse.
It's still me,
And me alone.
The pain and the chaos,
Only inside my head,
Exclusive to me,
Tortures and collects.
Meanwhile the causer,
Is still fine with it.
23/7/17
YOU ARE READING
Escaping Sorrow
PoetryA project where I attempt to overcome the absence of an unknown man supposed to shape a father - whatever that is. Putting this out here is a massive step for me because up to a point of last year I hardly even allowed myself to write down the word...
