i don't need tears to get my vision blurred
let alone an eye problem
all i need is familiar scents
familiar faces
a familiar feeling
nostalgia is a chain that keeps on choking me everywhere i go
it makes my heart hurt
my eyes sting
my mind empty
i can never escape my past self
this town is a sewage of muds and spits and... fists.
they don't haunt me, i haunt them.
it's not the trauma i got that makes me crawl up in bed
it's the trauma i gave that makes me cross my arm, fidget and daze off in public
funny right? a predator looking away whenever she meets eyes with her past prey,
as if looking away swings all the things she done- gone
does she even realize?
that looking away doesn't make her less of a predator;
such a spitting image of her father.
all the things she done to repent will be nothing more than word-play
a hypocrite
we know you still talk with your fist
we know you hold back that anger
and that you now figured out how to use words to kill
your sister is your first, and most loyal customer
A/N
it scares me thinking that maybe I'll hurt them again- my beloved friends, schoolmates, especially my sister. i was a rage ball back then. We're good now tho, we talked about it, apologized, and healed. I'm doing my best to change(becomes a people pleaser😜😜😜) /j
YOU ARE READING
Dazed Off
PoesiaSee what the young poet wrote in her old journals at only the age of twelve, and how her mental state progressively gets worse at age fifteen:) Collection of poems mostly about God, family, love, and hate to oneself. • most impressive ranking: #6 in...
