isn't it a little hard
how they never choose you first,
you're always one of the last choices,
not because they think you are the worst
but maybe because there are people who are better,
better at every aspect than you,
and so now you look down on yourself,
on all the things you can actually do,
you're afraid you might not be enough,
and that people you're close with will leave you in the end,
you're afraid that history might repeat itself,
that you try your best to blend,
you're so used to being forgotten,
that it doesn't make you cry,
and it instead leave this empty feeling in your chest,
and suck out the life in your eyes.
YOU ARE READING
a hurricane of blues | poetry book 2 ✔
Poetry[ poetry and prose book 2 ] ❝you're so good at comforting others but who's comforting you?❞ a shelf of poems and proses containing the chaos and pain of heartache, loneliness, anger, grief, and sadness. s t a r t e d : f e b r u a r y 2 0 2 1 e n d...
