I don't have self-worth, I fall victim to myself, and I won't let you see my scars. There are scars on my heart, but it's ok it doesn't hurt anymore. Can't you tell just from looking into my dull eyes, I'm dead inside? You can't save me, I'm already gone, you don't even know me, I'm hidden from the world. You won't notice when I disappear, I haven't been around for so long. I can't wake up, is this a nightmare? I walk around empty inside, living off of pain. Can't you see how you kill me by keeping me alive? I can't find myself, someone make me believe that reflection isn't really me. I'm unrecognizable, what the hell?! I will scream, but you won't hear a word I cry out. I am broken, but your to blind to notice. I need help, I cry for you to love me. I don't even care if it's all a lie, I just need to be told I am loved. I am dead, you don't miss me. One day you will realize what you've done, but it's too late. You can't save me from my self-hate. I built a wall so high; it keeps me caged on the inside. You cannot get to me, you cannot set me free. All I need is for you to love me. I block out everything. I am so numb, I will do anything to feel again, but the only thing I can feel kills me slowly. Pain and suffering, what's the point in anything? You took away my happiness; there is no joy in anything. I'm locked away, you'll never find the key. I'm trapped in my misery. You can't get to me. Why do I feel so lonely, surrounded by people. Why do I feel so lonely, I'm in a room full of few. You are alive, I watch you thrive, while I die inside. I'm broken and defeated, but it's ok; I guess I don't need live anyway. One day you'll find me and realize that your much too late. Then you'll fall to your knees, crying; let this be a dream. You'll wonder what you've done. Well you should know. You've been watching me slip away every day. I just need you to love me, I don't even care if it's all a lie; just say that you love me. Maybe it's the start of a zombie apocalypse; and I'm a victim of the outbreak. Because I feel so dead but I'm still breathing. This life is torture to me. It's ok though, because I guess I don't need a life. One day you'll see me, but it'll be much to late.
Kayla Worley
YOU ARE READING
Life Is An Adventure
PoetryThis is some of the pomes I've written put into a book. Each chapter will be a different pome, except the first chapter which is basically what I say here.
