He calls me sunshine.
It is a simple gesture,
Just a passing phrase.
I make him feel warm,
At least that's what he tells me.
It's kind of silly.
One could even say
It's apparent irony.
A contradiction.
I can feel nothing
But hate, despair, and sorrow.
I am disgusting.
Yet he manages
to call me something so sweet
Like I deserve that.
I do hate myself.
He finds a way to love me.
He cherishes me.
How's that possible?
To love someone who hates all,
For him to love me?
I can't fathom it.
I can't comprehend at all.
My mind is confused.
Can you imagine,
An unconditional love?
I can't imagine.
YOU ARE READING
Alone
PoetryThis was for a poetry contest but the contest fell through. I'm now turning this into a book of poetry.
