"You're not real, you're a mistake"
they tell me as I walk away.
A burning behind my eyes
is what I feel as I escape the light.
Why was I made to feel this way?
Why should I even stay?
No one listens, no one cares.
Just another girl gone, and out of their hair.
I'd say it's nothing, that I can just ignore,
but it hurts even more.
"They are simply names. Nothing they say is true."
Would you say the same if you were me, and I, you?
I now feel tears run down my face.
I hate to cry, to feel this way.
I go to wipe them away, but alas,
they are dry, dry as day.
What if I simply am a machine?
Not real, not truly me?
What if over time, I do not age?
I am stuck here, forever, for years.
It would explain why I only shed clockwork tears.
YOU ARE READING
Sure, Thanks, I am Fine
PoetryDepression Anxiety Insomnia Heartbreak Unloved Crazy Scared Joyful Happy Bullied Everything listed here is something I've either felt or gone through. As have many others. But is it easy to say out loud? No, it never is.
