It's not something that I can just shut off.
It's constant. Horrible.
It eats away at my soul, my brain, and replaces the destruction with something even worse.
Sometimes, I feel like crying for no reason,
and you might think I'm just too sensitive.
I am.
But this, this is something different.
It's like a torment of emotions, of thunder and lightning that I just can't control, making me tremble and seem like a maniac.
It makes me think about the death of others.
I cast them away. They hate me for what I can't control.
"What if lightning strikes that tree and crashes on my family?"
"What if the house catches on fire and I can't save anyone or anything?"
What if?
They say it's nothing. They tell you to stop thinking so much.
How can I do that, when I don't even know what's happening?
It's like the universe has been placed upon my shoulders, eons of pressure just building in my head with nowhere to go.
I think about myself.
It hurts.
"I'm okay," I say.
I'm never okay.
YOU ARE READING
To Nowhere
Poetry|| a book of poems || This is a twisting, turning oblivion of madness. This is watching the sun touch the horizon and wishing for your hopes and dreams to appear among the stars. This is the road to nowhere.
