I wish the weight of Ms. Society and the World would get off my back.
Will I ever be good enough for you?
I thought that I had at least met your lowest satisfaction -
I guess not.
Dissatisfaction is like poison to my emotional bloodstream -
It kills me inside.
Too unbearable.
I try to show you with a smile on my face,
but you frown upon what I do,
and my flowers slowly start to wilt away.
This weight is too heavy.
I long for peace.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...