If ye think yer
Hatred and jealousy-filled words could weigh me down,
Then you're wrong, darling.
I've been raised high from all those words
That once pierced through my heart.
Now who are you to me,
To remain so bothered?
You pretended like a great friend
And stabbed me in the back,
But I'm a faster healer than the werewolves.
You didn't see it,
And thought I'd remain there where you left me,
With all those triggered parts and wounds.
I ain't that weak, dear;
It didn't take a blink of yer eyes
For me to pick up all those pieces,
Put them in a frame,
And paste them so all the scars would go invisible.
Where'd you hit now?
'Cause you've got nothing visible.
Old emotions died long ago.
Never did ye expect me to become the sea,
Watching my rise through the ocean,
Faster than the wind.
Watch me root deeper than the ocean,
Might make yer eyes dart in awe.
Ye might not even understand it,
Even if ye read it,
But I'm stronger than all yer nasty games,
'Cause the people you called mad
Have been raised from the ashes,
Living the world around more often than you.
YOU ARE READING
The Mad People's Dorm
Poetry"Mad People's Dorm" is a heartfelt collection of poetry that takes you deep into the emotions and thoughts of someone battling anxiety, betrayal, and inner turmoil. Each poem is a window into a mind that has faced darkness and is striving to find li...
