When do I get to see the world without the need of questioning every aspect of it
With the source of the insecurity of do I belong here or am I allow to feel?
When did life became so fragile against the world itself?
With every little piece of wrong step can get you deep in a deep hole
I get to feel emotions but yet I'm ashamed to ever have anything moving inside me
'Cause when madness seeks my attention, I'll be forced to seek happiness within it.
If I'm being judged by others for the way I handle my feelings, who am I for myself?
Because I wonder,
have I become imune to emotions
I don't want to have the need to ask myself who am I when I feel.
Who's this person in this mirror?
Because sadness handles me beautifully
Loneliness feels some kind of comforting
And happiness is beyond whimsical
And love
Well, that is a magical wand that always leaves sparks and dots of darkness.
So, when I get to see the world, these are the things I get to feel.
But, there is more to see than to feel around here.
YOU ARE READING
Fragile
Poetry"Every word that was once thrown at me made the glass shattered at the end." Collection of poems
