Sitting in dark still room.
The wind is always silent.
Waiting for nothing at all.
Wondering about what I am.
Not really needed by anybody.
Just a empty space filled with dust.
Ignored and never touched by people.
Isolation is the greatest evil.
What did I ever do to make them run.
Are my impressions never lasting.
Am I just one big overreaction of self.
Constantly built up to be put down.
It's easy to blame the world.
For all that I have done to them.
Maybe this is my wrong doing.
I'm that secret failure that is quiet.
Why is it all my fault ?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The realisation has struck again that hey, no one needs me. No one really needs me or wants me and if they do, they only say it to feel better about themselves. No one has ever emotionally slapped me cold in the face and threatened me because they needed me so desperately.
I've never had that classic 'Good Will Hunting' moment where someone finally tells me that it's not my fault. No one cares enough. My emotions are a short fuse that could easily blow up at any moment. But does anyone care ? No, because it's just a fucking charade to them.
Sincerely Yours,
Liliana.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry (2015-2017)
PoetryThis is poetry for the soul from Yours Truly. Volume 1. "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute, we read and write poetry because we are members of the human race." - John Keating aka Robin Williams. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Co...
