Poetry

Untitled Poem

My face could be plastered with a grin
But that doesn't stop these feelings from seeping in.

I gradually start to feel worse
And I feel like my tear ducts are gonna burst

I go to my mother, looking to vent.
But she never helps that much.

I tell her how I feel among my peers.

"Think of X, she doesn't think of you that way"
She said as I cried
And that made me feel a little dead inside.

I know she has good intentions in mind
But a way to explain how I feel to her
Is what I struggle to find.

If only people knew how I really felt
Like an old book
Abandoned on a shelf.

But what good would that do?
Earn myself a sympathy or two?

Better to keep these feelings to myself instead,
(Even if I feel as if I'd be better off dead)

But sometimes it gets a bit too much
So I'll ramble about it in a poem.

In a room full of people I feel overwhelmed
My legs shake
My stomach flips
I feel as if I'm gonna get sick

I feel like im beneath a hydraulic press
With a sense of dread and negative thoughts
Drilling their way into my brain.

This leads to me unable to approach
Classmates, teachers, or friends (that I
Love so much)

I don't want to paint myself as a victim
So I keep this all to myself.