I sit alone on the window watching the rain falling against the glass.
I wish I could look into your mind,
read if you think about me too.
I guess that I would find nothing,
not a single thing about me.
What a surprise!
I mean who would think about the ugly, fat, worthless bitch?
Right, no one.
For how long did I stared in the darkness, thinking about the things they yelled at me in school?
For too long already.
I am lucky in one point I live in the 11th floor.
I stand on the wet and cold window sill ready to jump.
And I jump.
I don't feel the pain I only feel the release.
Finally I'm free.
YOU ARE READING
The time does not stop
PoetryI write short poems, or how ever you'd like to call them, mostly about depression. Some I post here just to hear what you think about them. So happy reading.