It used to be so easy.
I could mess up and it would still be OK.
I used to fall and start laughing.
I used to jump and then start screaming.
Whatever happened to that little blonde brat that bit random people but they still thought she was cute.
Whatever happened to that girl who thought she'd grow up to be pretty?
Or the girl that stared at the world with stars in her eyes?
The truth is...
She didn't go anywhere.
Your staring at her.
This little blonde brat doesn't care anymore.
This girl never grew up to be pretty.
This girl only has tears in her eyes.
But her heart still beats!
Her memories are still there!
Just barely and honestly, why do you care?
I don't.
But you used to!
That was before I saw the world in a different way.
Stuck in a one dimensional day.
Same old story, same old shoes.
When this little girl bites, now they just call her rude.
It used to be so easy,
When I thought it was fun when my mom started laughing,
When the flowers were blooming,
And the thorns weren't dangerous for my tiny little fingers that could fit in between the branches.
Now, I've learnt that she's not laughing anymore,
And that flowers are just lazy attempts at mending broken promises,
And the blood that flows from every prick is not nearly worth it if you only get two small and green blackberries.
What's so hard now was effortless,
And the bones in the cabin weren't so meaningful,
The monsters under my bed were always just in my head,
But it's only now, that I realize the true definition of what my mother said,
I kiss on the cheek or a hug back,
Was just a daily ritual, knowing that everyone loved you,
And you weren't just another coat on the rack.
It used to be so easy.
When did it start getting hard?
Was it when I realized that the only reason people said they loved me was because they depended on my potential?
Was it when I decided that a kiss on the cheek or a hug was too close because others had abused its innocence?
Was it when I found that trust is so much more than what it's essence?
Was it when I watched someone crumble in front of me, and looked upon myself and found that I was crumbling too?
It used to be so easy.
And the truth is, I wish it hadn't been.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Of A Broken Heart And A Poisoned Mind
ПоэзияThe title might seem a bit morbid but the poetry here is simply made. These are in the form of SPOKEN WORD (and some other things) and might have many different meanings for many different people. In this book, there are both light and dark verses...
