i hate it.
i despise it actually.
the little black hole
that fills my stomach
when i pass a mirror,
or something that reflects.
its not the void i was
hoping for.
but for now i
live with it.
it serves as a pothole
on my road to growing.
as i said before,
im the road less traveled.
i try ceasing this.
i try taking a step back
but i just fall back
into it.
i don't talk much about my emotions.
because i feel again, stupid.
i don't know why i became like this
or how to keep this black hole filled.
but it must have started
once i turned eight,
and i knew what a lie was.
when i found out all
family secrets
and what i originally was
suppose to be.
to some i'm a beating heart,
to others, money.
two stories, i was pulled
to different sides by people
i loved very much.
and no, not two parents.
but a father and a son.
my father and his father.
one long gone,
we all reget the fighting.
we are all falling apart.
look at what you did.
i'm angry,
but can't stay mad forever.
- zmh
ESTÁS LEYENDO
the ruins of me
Poesíai love you; said me every time foolishly. if you see any grammer mistakes, please do not hesitate to contact me politely about them! also credit to whoever may have taken the picture of the flowers for my cover, I did edit it a bit but other than...
