To those I love,
I'm sorry I'm not what you wanted.
Because of your push and pull,
My thoughts are haunted.
I can't escape your stares,
But I'm trying my hardest.
Even though you don't care,
With my words, I'm an artist.
To those I love,
Writing comes first.
Even if I get nowhere,
I'll still have this thirst.
I put my thoughts in,
And out come these poems.
My head's not steel,
So the things you say, I know them.
To those I love,
I wish you could fix me.
My thoughts are dark,
And you know I can't see.
I live life with the knowledge,
That I'll never be the perfect daughter.
But you don't see I'm trying,
And that my thoughts like to slaughter.
To those I love,
I can't handle your "protection."
You shove me under a rock,
Marked with 'viewer discretion.'
You won't leave me alone,
But I can't change it.
You want to know what I'm thinking,
I'll sell my thoughts for a price, just name it.
YOU ARE READING
Mistaken
PoetryA book of poems about the LGBT, depression, selfharm, suicide, freedom, and society.
