Under the stars I lay, contemplating the nightmares of my life, dreaming of a glorious savior who may never come. A tear begins the stream that runs down my cheek, dark thoughts powering it's constant flow, and as I lay on the green grasses of the field, I can feel myself slowly slipping away from the normal happiness I always wear. Flawless, beautiful, glorious, graceful; all words people use to describe me, words I have to live up to. Expectations raise themselves high on the throne of my actions, ordering me to obey and mold into the image of perfection they see, but now I understand that it is impossible to be the flawless beauty I wished to be. Cool, soothing winds take my worries away and the tears I cry hit the ground. Perfection is unreachable, and the tears that run are proof of that statement, so under the stars I lay, in my flawed state of mind, contemplating the reasons as to why I bring this sadness upon myself. All I want to know is... why?
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Broken Poetry
PoetryJust a bunch of my writings, usually dark but there are a few bright ones hidden in there somewhere... I hope you enjoy!
