Love and the Unknown- Poem?


I don't understand what's wrong with me. I try to be happy and sometimes I actually believe I am, but then something changes/happens and I'm back where I started. I keep questioning myself, wondering if I ever made progress to begin with or if I was just pretending the whole time. I feel like I'm hiding from myself, too afraid to find out who I am, was, or will be. I don't even know anymore. It's like I'm going in circles, chasing a dream that's always been bound to fail. The worst part is I don't even think it's my fault. Like the world just sucks so much that no one is fated for happiness. At least not like how they wanted, how they dreamed and ached for. Because the one thing I want in life is something I can't have. At least not the way it's supposed to be. Life shouldn't be this hard but everyone makes it so. It's like we carry boulders on our backs, trying to climb a mountain that never ends. Until there's nothing left but tears and heartache.  What's the point? Fighting against odds that are only there to see us drown. I'm just so tired. Tired of pushing and pulling everything that comes my way. Hoping that someone will take the reins for me. Show me that I'm not alone in this headache of a universe. But it's always just me. The one who carries burdens that aren't even mine. Sometimes I think the reason I'm so nice is because I'm running away from my own problems. Like if I just help everyone else with theirs, then mine will fade away. But that's not how it works. I'm afraid to deal with mine because I don't honestly know what they are. I don't know what it is that makes me curl into myself at night hoping that no one sees me cry. I don't know what it is that makes me fake a smile when I've been given every reason to be happy. I don't know what it is that makes me feel less when (to be honest) I'm probably one of the best people you'll meet. I just know that I do. See, the weird thing about me is that I don't hate myself. I never have. I don't think I'm a horrible person. I just think I'm weak and not special. Someone that's only useful when they have something to offer. And yes there are reasons for that on the surface. But there is something in me that I can't figure out. Something that feels dark and hurt. Something that seems like it's the root of everything. I just don't know what it is, and I'm afraid of what it could be if I were to dig deeper. And that's why I struggle so much. I'm a coward who hides behind herself, feeling pathetic for never dealing with it. But the truth is I don't even know how. Where do I start? How do you find something that obviously doesn't want to be found? As the saying goes, it's like searching for a needle in a haystack. To be honest I'm afraid that what I'll find is worse than what I'm dealing with now. 

  • Author: Merissa (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 25th, 2023 04:50
  • Comment from author about the poem: Not really a Poem but I don't know if I really write poems anymore, just poetic monologues. Thanks in advance to anyone who's willing to read. :-/
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 9
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  • orchidee

    The only horrible person, or animal, is my imaginary dog, Fido, who barks fiercely at folk who forget to mark poems 18+ if they should be so marked! lol
    (Not applying to this poem!)

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