They scream "yes you can!"
"You're so brave and strong"
I look at the crowd still
and feel my atmosphere drop.
The room turns blurry,
suddenly turned to blackness.
There's no one there.
Except me and my demons.
The crowd murmurs "oh here we go again"
"I bet she's gonna cry about it to her mommy" "it's no wonder no one likes her"
I open my eyes and scream "shut up!"
The crowd shocked. The darkness laughing in the shadows.
"Oh yes, she's riled up now boys."
"I don't want the cliches,
thank you but I love it when the rain pours.
I love being by myself,
if that involves crying in the rain,
cursing at god for why I was born,
then that's me.
I may sound it,
strong and brave.
But when I fall asleep at night.
I don't feel a single shred.
Because if this is all an act then what's real? Nothing has felt real for a long time but I somehow can't escape from
this paradox I call hell."
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A Journey Past Our Solar System: Poetry of a Borderline
PoetryA Journey Past Our Solar System is mostly confessional poetry of my life in the few last years, structures of a dysfunctional family, in the middle of dealing with mental illness. A tragedy in the making of my brain turning into coal, ready to burn...
