And as I lay here in my death bed, I can't help but feel regret and guilt over my actions. While others feel numb and get ready to pass on I want to turn back time and bask in my happiness. At least once.
I don't say "again" because I never allowed myself the pleasure of showing and experiencing happy. I thought if someone knew they'd take it away from me. That if I remained silent with a face unchanging no one would bat an eyelid my way.
Comfort. I write this while I'm alive, a giggle leaves my throat. I stop and gasp at the foreign sound and clutch my neck while another one builds.
I think I'll just die hysterical. Just like this. This is happy for all the times happy wasn't.
YOU ARE READING
TWENTY VOICES
Poetry"I guess I want to wake up hearing a voice that quietens the ones inside my head. That one voice that tells me I should live."
