my dad exits through the door
and all I see is the swelling of my fears
and the falling of my tears.
I know very well I shouldn't
care by now
and I swear I don't,
but something hidden remains
forbidden for me to touch on.
I wonder more than often
why couldn't it be different
why couldn't I resist this;
the impeccable pain stained brain
I so shamelessly possess.
I pray to god though I'm not
convinced of him,
that I'll pull through and overcome
what he's made me become.
YOU ARE READING
Self Taught Reality | a poetry book
PoesíaPoetry books aren't that popular here but that should change, so I'm giving it a go. Writing is all I do besides school so poems are the only way I've found works to pour all the painfully abstract thoughts out of my head. I hope someone out there...
