Have you ever asked yourself like why you so lonely? Or empty?
that maybe you give too much of your essence to people and never leave any of you for yourself
I know I do and like that's maybe why I get so attached to books
because in them, I find myself I need to change, because things shouldn't be this way
but it's hard sometimes you know, when most days you don't leave the house because you feel unworthy of the space you take up
so you'd much rather disintegrate into soil because you've become all too familiar with people stepping over you and admiring the outcome of your beauty but never the roots of your pain
I spend so much effort watering people in order for them to grow and hardly get enough sun shine to feed my own soul because I don't know how to do anything else but care for everyone but myself
YOU ARE READING
Broken Words
PoetryIsn't it odd how we can know human nature well enough to write poems that move others to tears yet must hear the words of others to cry alone?
