My name is always easily forgotten
I know I'm not memorable
I'm wet paint drying
I'm an outsider dying
I'm a grey colorless sky
I'm a dull mystery with a bleak twist
Everyone diverts their attention to avoid the contagious solidarity
The sadness
Avert your eyes
Or look straight through
Your eyes gloss over as your gaze glides over me, by me.
I'm a cloud of dusty air
Blending into the gray background
I'm the clear tape on a ripped notebook
An eraserless pencil without a point
No one would notice
If I just stopped existing
YOU ARE READING
Gruesome veracity poetry
PoetryThe people who struggle the most wear the most elaborate masks. These poems uncover dark truths of the world through my perspective
