Oh, God.
Oh, no.
It's happening again,
her beautiful face
is stuck in my head.
This can't be real,
I'd rather be dead.
These feelings get stronger,
the ones that I've fled.
I have become
what they taught me to loathe.
I know they'd react
with pure hatred and woe.
I try to hate her,
but it doesn't feel right.
This desire inside me,
engulfs me with fright.
I find myself questioning
all that I've known.
Why do her lips
feel better than home?
How can she make me
so easily smile?
Is there really a God,
that would name this love vile?
I'm held back by my family,
who taught this as wrong,
and made me feel,
like I don't belong.
I'll be damned to hell,
If I don't find a cure,
but why would I find it,
If heaven's with her?
YOU ARE READING
Secrets Of The Broken
PoetryPoems and pieces of writing about the secrets of mental illness, insecurities, abuse, heartbreak, accepting yourself and recovery. Just want to let you all know you're not alone, and if you ever need to talk I understand *Trigger warning*
