If my house was a home then tell me why I am forced to be trapped inside my room everytime I'm here? I feel obligated to lock myself up because if I don't things happen. I'm tired of being forced to pretend that I'm happy. I'm not pleasing myself, I'm only making myself worse. I never speak, and when I'm forced to speak nobody likes what I have to say. I speak the truth when I say things, I'm tired of acting like nothing matters. I'm tired of being walked all over. I just want to pull my hair out and scream about how much I hate my home. My home is in someone's arms, not in these four walls I'm trapped in.
YOU ARE READING
To Feel
PoetryJust a girl putting her feelings into words. From poems to unsent letters, I pour my soul into each piece. Many of the pieces are about the dark parts of my mind, and wanting types of love that I'll never be able to have.
