Is it really me?
Is it complicated to see that I'm not ready?
Or will I learn to never look down again?
Three hours of waiting
Three hours of my heart in pain, aching
Asking, doubting, and picking battles instead
Invisible tears are streaming down
While you were here, having fun
I know it's too late to run
And I'm behind these bars to keep myself away
It's my choice; I decided anyway
The blame: am I just too awake for my vision to stay
I know there is another option
But I chose violence
Where can I hurt myself the most?
It's never you who put me in this
It's always a choice, and the one I've picked first
But if I weren't thinking of you
Would I let myself be put in this situation?
And if you're the truth
Would you give me a million reasons?
If you want to know
I'm breaking it down into a million pieces
And if you were to fall
It was a choice to break me
YOU ARE READING
for the betterment of us
PoesíaIt will always be for the betterment of us. Every poem is.