Pretend that I'm dead because the dead don't lie.
Lies
If you say we should be real, then why are you an illusion.
Honesty
You hand me the manual and tell me to follow. Each page is empty, so what am I to learn.
Control
Insisting that I go, but shout when I leave.
Fear
Pounding in my head and my heart beating out of me. Even if you're not here, I feel you there.
Anxiety
Your friends laugh with you when you turn to me and call me a fool. I giggle robotically and give a sly smile your way.
Humiliation
You say that it was your fault by blaming me. I would feel sorry for you.
Guilt
The air is eerily empty. The atmosphere is suffocating. No words are spoken, but I feel the sharpness of them cut through me.
Silence
You hand me flowers and tell me it's fine. Overreaction is an understatement, but at last, we begin again.
Charm
We're playing your losing game. There are no winners, only the dead and the survivor.
YOU ARE READING
My Night-time Poetry
PoetryI sometimes write poems at night when I'm feeling too inspired to sleep, so this is my poem dump for when I can't sleep at 04:07 AM on a saturday. Please enjoy, and keep in mind this is just a side night hobby of mine, not perfect or professional in...
