every word feels like pulling teeth
can barely get you to speak much
without you just regressing further
i can feel the blood soak into my eyes
as i press my head further into spikes
just because i think maybe youd listen to me
if i debase just a little bit further
for you to feel comfortable and competent
looking into the mirror, i can see marks
not ones that truly exist
but ones id wished id given myself
wondering when it'll be enough
when youll be happy
when youll be okay with me
ive never been scared to love
but when it feels like im coming off
as way too much
crying a solemn solace for anxiety
when you find me at times repulsive
and uninteractable
what am i supposed to feel?
am i supposed to just accept it?
because despite how terrible
the way you barely paying attention to me feels
i would rather this than nothing
i would rather some attention than none
but sometimes
id rather feel
the trickle of blood
rather than any condolence
or another sorry for not talking
every moment i try doesn't affect you
even now you cant speak to me
you simply stand and stare
not looking
particularly anywhere
while i beg you to share
anything about you, your loves, your likes
hoping itll come to you like riding a bike
but for every moment i bloody roses
each second i feel my heartbeat in my ears
my heart sinks deeper in my chest
and i wonder how many hours
ive dumped into nothing
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife
