Maybe I break my own heart
by acting like I'm okay,
while everything I care about
slips away,
like sand through my fingers.
Maybe I break my own heart
by hiding the hurt-
some behind long sleeves,
the rest behind a smile
that fools even me.
Perhaps I break my own heart
when I beg them to stay
with eyes that already know
they've gone.
Perhaps the worst kind of pain
is the one I let happen,
when I keep hoping,
keep holding on,
even when it's already gone.
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...
