You build up all the courage in the world to speak the words weighing heavily on your heart.
Afraid. Hesitant. Anxious.
Knowing you hate the vulnerability that comes with speaking up, admitting it out loud, allowing someone to hear your worst fears.
Irritated. Suspicious. Worried.
You know you have to speak them eventually, to ease the burden of them, despite what may come from it.
Sad. Restless. Angry.
The wounds you showed, did not result in the understanding you desperately craved or the actions you hoped would come.
Heartbreak. Despair. Hatred.
No, it only intensified the pain and the feeling of being completely misunderstood, and frankly, alone.
YOU ARE READING
Chaotically Organized
PoetryWelcome to my chaotic mind, expressed in free verse poetry that just down right sucks, however it is the process of expression and finding myself. From healing, to pain, to falling down again, to hoping to find myself. Chaotically organized and sh...
