why can't i get it through
my rotting brain
that people being different
is acceptable
and even encouraged
we revel in our distinctness
but i abhor it
im so idiotic
for the hatred i feel to inability
mostly towards my own but towards others too
maybe my own has left
a terrible taste in my mouth
the only emotion warranted by me is suffering
i earned nothing
in my blindness
kissing the darkness
holding close the familiar feeling of pity
i can't justify having you
when I can't take care of you
i need help
i need therapy
i need the errors of all my ways to be clear
anchored in desire, sinking in self loathing
should i even try to make this continue
despite how much i love you
your pain is not worth
my small bits of happiness, occasionally
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 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
