nobody acknowledges how painful it is to be jealous.
the aching in your heart,
fingernails dug deep within your palms,
eyes welling with rage and hurt,
mind unable to work out how you feel - internal conflict.
conflict.
it is conflict.
a war of the mind you wish not to battle,
yet you are forced - and by what?
you don't know.
you'll never know.
you wish so deeply to stop reacting in such a way,
you hate yourself for it.
you hate who you are.
you want rid of yourself.
your own body is repulsed by the way you think,
but your brakes are cut,
your mind has control - you must spectate your own downfall,
at the hands of someone or something else.
you tell yourself they did this to you,
but did they really?
you don't know.
you'll never know.
you wish so deeply to stop reacting in such a way,
you hate yourself for it.
you hate who you are.
you want rid of yourself.
jealousy is not a sin,
it is poison served in a golden chalice.
it is unavoidable.
a toxin with no antidote.
is it your fault?
you don't know.
you'll never know.
but you'll forever blame yourself.
YOU ARE READING
Wildflowers
Поэзия"men have a nerve to play with a woman's heart, to convince her she is not beautiful the second he doesn't get his way, to convince her she is nothing to him, whilst her eyes are flooded with potential, and his are deep and empty, void." A poetry co...
