we use such lovely words
to describe our childhood
reminiscing, remembering-
we call it youth,
freedom,
talk about how we wanted to stay
peter pan.
but instead,
i have felt only lonely and lost.
my heart clenches for a need of tears,
it sobs dry dust-
yet the dark does not answer.
my mind screams for more pain
yet all my mouth does is smile.
i am learning to betray morals,
to burn friends
shun family
and slam the doors shut
on the people that care.
all i want is to be found and loved
but no one seems to notice.
lovely?
my youth
is as lovely as a forgotten room.
piled with blankets of dust-
sunlight somehow filtering in
you think it is ethereal,
special, even (to you and you only)
until
you and i both realize:
all i was was abandoned.
lovely?
my youth
is as lovely as i make it to be-
and i refuse to do so.
YOU ARE READING
eris - youth
Poetryhere's to anger and love, to the youth that shapes us- this is my story of feelings. hurt for the way we treat our world, affection for the ones who love as we should. tw: mentions of depression, anxiety, self harm, blood, suicide ©️aliicelowe
