In the darkness a boy was born. A boy destined to go through so much in his short life that it tore him apart until he felt like he was Nothing. Until he felt Nothing.
A Nothing so deep it consumed him. So deep it devoured his very being. There was no one to hold on to his memory. No one to keep what spirit he had alive. Simply because,
He was different.
He always said what he thought
(He always hid what he felt)
He always acted happy around others
(He always hid the fact that he wasn't)
He was always there for them
(They were rarely there for him)
And what he hid was that he was Scared
Scared of being alone
Scared of being hurt again and again
Scared of being rejected
Because that's all he ever knew
All he had ever gone through
And when he disappeared
They all asked why.
They couldn't figure it out.
Only the few who knew him could.
Everyone else,
They just blew it off and went back to their lives.
Because nobody knew
Because nobody cared
YOU ARE READING
CREATING CONSTELLATIONS
Poesia"We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations. My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellation...
