Yes, I tried and tried and tried,
To get away from those ghosts,
Became a writer, learned to love myself,
Accept myself for who I am.
Adapted to the silence of not speaking
To those who ruined my childhood.
I've been the bravest soldier,
Built boundaries stronger than ever,
Never letting them in,
While they keep slamming against my walls
As if they could break them down.
Thought I was healed, growing, shining, learning,
Yet insecurities hit in ways that left me with social anxieties.
Being an insecure attachment type,
I couldn't hold onto any friends,
Didn't know how to let people in.
Even when I tried my best to let it all go
And start again, they came back, striking where it hurts.
The new ones I trusted
Only sought my weakness, hurt where it stings,
Brought jealousy, anxieties, and the worst of feelings.
Though I was wrong to recall it all,
I still wonder if maybe I'm better on my own.
Yet, the fear haunts—will I ever find
Good, trustworthy relationships in life again?
And yes, I tried and tried and tried again
To live through this tale of motherhood, fatherhood,
Brotherhood, sisterhood, friendship, and love—
Yet I failed again, and again, and again.
YOU ARE READING
The Mad People's Dorm
Poésie"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...
