Sometimes I hate myself
For having a mind that thinks too much
I wish I could turn it off
My feelings, my thoughts
I wonder sometimes if people
Are even worth my time
They come and go
But I stay here all alone
In this dark tunnel
Where’s my man?
I can’t see him coming for me
Did he get lost too?
Did he forget to look for me?
Did I lose everyone altogether?
I’m well aware that I don’t belong here
But is it too much to ask for?
To be loved?
To be cherished?
To be respected?
To never be forgotten?
To never be hurt?
I suppose it is
I suppose it is
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Author:
Rosa Violet (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 14th, 2022 10:38
- Comment from author about the poem: Having a mind that overthinks. is a direct route to flipside of everything.
- Category: Letter
- Views: 27
Offline)
Comments1
This is poignant yet quite relatable. I sense this "man" could be referencing a father, or a father figure, and speaking from somebody who had an absent dad I can resonate with your words. Sometimes it feels like it's only us. Always focus on the light.
Focusing on the light; it's easier said than done. Some way or the other, darkness creeps in, inevitably.
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