Is it supposed to be brighter after the storm?
Or do we just tell ourselves it will be?
Is that our way of surviving?
If making it through your struggles really bears a reward,
why does it feel like I'm still dying inside?
Where is the part of myself that was so willing to belong?
So open to the idea of actually being in love?
She probably died.
Died.
Passed away.
Moved on.
Left.
Take your pick because it's all the same.
She couldn't withstand the pain so here I am.
Her empty shell.
Nothing but apathy and a shot of tequila.
So no offense, but take your emotions and fuck off.
They don't brighten me anymore.
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Author:
Wilted (
Offline) - Published: February 25th, 2019 23:14
- Comment from author about the poem: I learned recently that I simply care too much. I am trying to not let my emotions run me into the ground.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 7
Offline)
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