They say I’m hard to read,
That my smile hides too much.
They don’t see the pain,
Or the anger I keep inside.
They call me mysterious,
But I don’t feel like a mystery.
I feel like a stranger,
Even to myself.
I look for answers in my reflection,
But all I find is silence.
Maybe they’re right—
I don’t even know who I am.
YOU ARE READING
Trapped in my own head
PoetryShe is an outcast. She finds it easier to express what she feels in the form of writing. Whether it is poems, letters or long texts. These are poems that she writes trying to describe how it feels to live with certain mental health issues, in a worl...
