Be yourself
It began has a sentiment screeched begging in agony
Now it's a whispered statement
My teachers no longer dare to touch it
For it may invoke a feeling of individuality
And when I go to church
I sit in a pew and fold my hands
But God I am not sorry
To my music, I'm sorry you've all become basement songs
But I'm starting not to love him anymore
He's just another gray memory
And to the teddy bear sitting on my bed, I'm sorry you haven't seen me a smile in a while
It just gets harder when the girl with the overactive imagination
Became the freak who still wants to hold on to pieces of her old self
And I want to believe in something so bad
But I feel like a godly being has become the water slipping through my fingers
And to my art, I am sorry you're all black and white now
They told me color is distracting
Make emotion present
My melodies are fading
My beliefs are whimpering in a corner
You've all killed the bright shining girl I used to be
This is the death of the girl with the overactive imagination
I'm sorry to those who loved her
This is your apology
But make no mistake, you are the ones who killed her
YOU ARE READING
My Kitchen Sink
PoesíaAre you searching for purpose? Then write something, yeah it might be worthless. -Twenty One Pilots This is my worthless writings, for a kitchen sink to you is not a kitchen sink to me. Stay street.