when will I be able to say no
when people ask me and I say their words go
whether they are just people, a friend, or a foe
when will my answer surpass 'I don't know'
?
when will I be able to say stop
without my tongue getting stuck in a familiar flop
and respect myself when my peak reaches top
and halt before I feel myself start to drop
?
when will I be able to say its okay
instead of being the one having to say
sorry when blame should go the other way
and not kneel my insignificant self down to pray
?
when will I be able to say you're welcome
and be a gift to someone else's conundrum
not pretending gratitude while just feeling numb
and feel like I might be worth where I'm from
?
when will I be able to say I am lonely
without being too blind myself just to see
that I am yearning for touch and to be free
and to be near someone who really loves me
?
when will I be able to say what's on my mind
and notice ones who treat me worthy of find
and regard myself not as a monster, but kind
and let myself out of the cocoon I had to bind
and self-love become something with no need of remind?
I'm having mixed feelings on this poem. At one moment, I feel what I meant about it, and the other, I have no idea what I've written at all.
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Feathers: A Book of Poetry
PuisiA pencil is the spotlight of a soul. It tells them its okay to overflow. It tells them ideas are art, and that the best ones are masterpieces. Feathers is a collection of poetry by me to convey the beauty and undeniable strife of the world, and emot...
