I feel nothing but plastic.
A casing of what everyone around me
sees and concludes is the real me.
The screams of reality and the aches I feel,
this coat of mine starting to peel.
It's torture.
Travis is the name for my shell
but that's just not who I am
and it never was, I just
never knew who I was until my body
outgrew my mindset and feelings.
I wish I could burst free
from this mortal prison
yet nobody wants to see me
be unrestricted and truly happy.
I just wish
the world could take
one more person
breaking the boundaries.
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 1 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife apparently wattpad limits the number of parts you can have, so I'm s...
