Sometimes we can't handle it
Our hearts get so heavy so we set our souls free momentarily by sitting on a couch to kiss a stranger warily but never caringly
we sit in our bathroom etching patterns into our arms so we can release all of the screams built up inside us silently so we don't inconvenience the ones we are born to please
and we pretend that we're ok because
crying is for the weak
Crying is for the weak and it was etched into our brains that weakness is never a good thing
But maybe it is
Because it only proves that there's always room to be stronger
and what's life worth living if there's no goal to reach
And what's life worth surviving if we have no lessons to teach
YOU ARE READING
The Real World
PoetryAn original collection of poems written by yours truly. This is how I feel about our world and the people in it. Some of these are past experiences of mine, and some aren't. I hope you can relate.
