What truly makes us human?
Feelings and emotion?
Anger and hate,
And jealously and despair?
Why can't all hearts pump love,
Instead of cold blood?
Why aren't you my home anymore?
My safe place to tell my deepest secrets.
Why do I walk on eggshells?
Scared to hurt you,
Like you hurt me,
Because no one deserves to feel the way I do.
Why do I hear about it,
Instead of the facts?
Why can't people speak directly?
Why am I afraid of myself?
Why does it take so much effort,
To get up in the morning,
Because I am scared of the day,
Scared of the confrontation,
The gossip,
The hatred that our world has become?
Why can't someone feel good about themselves,
Without being too 'sassy'?
Why can't I feel good about myself,
The way other people do?
Why can't I control my emotions?
Why can't I say what I feel?
Why can't I shout to the world?
Because laying in bed,
One minute I hate myself,
The next I love myself,
One minute I want to cry,
The next sing songs aloud like there's no tomorrow.
There is no tomorrow.
Time is an illusion.
Something to pass by while we wait for the end.
To see what is to come.
After our bodies have been laid down,
To be one with the ground.
Surely a direct route to hell?
Hell,
A place we all belong,
Because no one can make mistakes,
Without some kind of grudge,
No one can speak their mind,
Without falling behind and away from the crowd.
No one can fit in,
Even the populars are insecure,
Even those who stand up for themselves are insecure,
Even those who cry themselves to sleep wake up smiling,
Even those who are laughing are dying inside.
Everyone is feeling pain,
Some just choose to pretend it's not there,
So others can have a break from the heartache,
And the exhaustion.
Why can't I sleep at night,
Without looking to my ceiling listening to the saddest songs,
Relating them to my life so well,
And laying down while the tears sting my eyes and the water lays on the whites,
Eventually falling to wet my pillow?
Or without occupying myself until I feel tired,
Hoping to fall asleep quickly enough,
To not feel the breaking of the pieces of my already numb heart.
Or clutching my stomach in pain, because the pieces of my heart are spreading,
Cutting my body along with it,
Holding my hand over my mouth,
To silence the screams I wish to scream,
Gasps I wish to gasp,
Tears I wish to stream.
Or just laying there,
Feeling nothing,
Not being able to sleep,
Because I am so bored of my life,
That I have no will to do anything,
Including closing my eyes,
Including moving.
YOU ARE READING
Personification
Puisi//3rd Place Arctic Awards// Through poetry, this book expresses different mental illnesses, emotions and discoveries of a teenage mind. 'No amount of body lotion or perfume could cover up the memory of his smell on my weakened, scarred skin, And no...
