I'm dripping in my fears,
drenched in my regrets.
I try to dry it off,
I try to escape.
But even though I know my thoughts are far from rational,
they swallow me,
and I can't escape this hell.
I repeat the words in my head:
"they're not mad"
"they don't hate me"
"everything will be okay"
but my doubts suck me deep,
into the wretched mud.
YOU ARE READING
The Bitter Truth of Growing Up
PoesiaA series of poetry written by me for personal expression as opposed to creating work to show others, but I thought I'd share it online so maybe someone will enjoy it. The cover is made with the wattpad cover app. Feel free to contact me!
