And maybe we write about these things
Turn these things into movies
and books to watch our own demons fall away
To watch them decay on their own
and die knowing that we exist in something outside of ourselves
To know that we aren’t the only ones suffering,
even if our characters die off
or their stories simply never continue
I know I’m not just broken bones
fixated to a broken heart
and a dead girl's fairytale
I made my own movies
from paper skin,
drugged up princess,
cardboard princes,
plastic smiles
and denial
and somehow,
I am still alive.
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Author:
ummbree (
Offline) - Published: July 20th, 2017 02:26
- Comment from author about the poem: (small side note: my original account was "ummbre" so if you want to see more poems from me you can look there but, long story short: I can't log back into that account so. Here's a new beginning?)
- Category: Sad
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: M. Mohon, Staffnotesoul11.
Offline)
Comments2
Amazing what we put ourselves through and still we live on, described so well in this poem, Ummbree. Welcome back to MPS!
Thank you so much!
"...and die knowing that we exist in something outside of ourselves..." Absolutely; oh for the courage needed to acknowledge this!
To know that we aren’t the only ones suffering, " True, even if we do not actually know fellow sufferers, we are certain in the knowledge of shared human experiences. Fantastic!
I'm glad you could relate to this poem and agree with some of the things I stated!
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