Inside My Head -Short poems

Priority

  Cry

Do you ever cry yourself to sleep at night?  

Not because of the enemies that haunt you, 

but because of loved ones that are in the light?

Alone

 Have you ever felt so lonely, that it seeps into your bones,

 clawing and dragging at your heart? 

Tearing a wretching it into unreadable art?

Hurt

 Have you been hurt, not by force, but just by a laugh, a smile?

 They just weren't meant for you. It's never about you unless it's a problem. 

Unless someone needs something. 

Otherwise, you're on the bottom.

 The last priority the only day they'll make time for you is when you're in your coffin. 

Tears.

 They know your face well, 

streaking down you would have thought they'd be permanent stains by now.

 Echoing each silent cry forming your invisible gown. 

No one's ever going to care.

 No matter how much they tell you they love you. 

To You'll never be their top priority. 

Taking out the trash is more important than dealing with the feelings of this minority. 

Your heart. 

It will always be broken.

 Be damaged and used as some unholy token.

 They take it and care for it for a time,

 but little by little they break it apart selling it for a spare dime.

 Priority.

 I'm not one, nor will I ever be anyone's most important.

 The top of their list. I'm used to it now.

 It's like an unspoken vow. 

I'll take the scraps they give me.

 They are my family, not my enemies.