Nightmares of the past, dreams of the future,
come together to finish what's unfinished.☄
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"So, what is your story?
We don't know. It's long and twisted and not quite finished yet."
- - - - - - - - - - -
#1 poetical
#5 ink...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Wearing clothes that I pretend To not know how 'Perfect' They would fit. I just say, "Oh threw this on, Because Idon't really Have time to look perfect"
I stand in front of the mirror With the urge of wanting to erase them... Stretch marks that we scale As silver linings... Stretch marks that even An eraser cannot erase.
I feel what I feel With such depth and aching despair. I'm a finely tuned banjo, In a sea of horned instruments And no one wants to play me Or open me up. I'm so closed up.
I'm swallowing... Swallowing down my pride Day in and day out, Paying attention and trying to decide Where I can hide my nervous sights When I'm in a room of people And still, feel alone.
I need a break. Break from this despair. From the pain. From this stretch marks. From the mirrors around me. From the people who look at me. I don't know how to findthat exactly Without the dependence on chemicals.
Now I'm finding a way to end this poem When I'm still sad. Believe me, it's the hardest part Of trying to cope positively. • • • • •
