This is a personal documentation through poetry.
I am learning to look inward now, give myself love when I least want to. I do not live to love others, I live to love myself. I will find and create what is enough for me, and you will learn to let it...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I am at the crossroads I thought I'd never reach. It's not that I don't want to be here, I've got no where else to go. The trees surrounding me should feel comforting, Pulling the sadness out of me with the sway of the wind, The form of a mother, kissing my forehead. They brush my fingertips, and ask if I'm alright, To which I really cannot answer. I don't feel alright, and I feel afraid. A pit has opened in my stomach. And I don't have the proper means to fill it. This crossroads within the feminine trees Is calling my name louder than he can. Both paths will hurt me, But only one might save me. And when I turn around and see him standing behind me before the crossroads, He is pulling me back. He is begging me. But he isn't the trees. He isn't the feminine touch. He isn't gentle. Well, he doesn't know me. He doesn't know me.
