Sometimes it's good to feel bad.
Sometimes we need to feel sad.
Sometimes we really should be mad.
And it's ok to remember the good times we've had.
I miss the innocence of being young.
I remember I wasn't afraid of my parents
Or friends
Or people
Or opinions.
I miss being able to tell people everything
But then I learned that no one can keep a secret.
I remember when I didn't have to cry in secret.
I remember when my laugh sounded real.
I remember being happy...
Where has the time gone?
Where is it going?!
Wait!
Stop running away!
I can't let it escape me!
But... I can't catch it...
I was different then.
I've really changed.
Who am I now?
Who did I turn into?
Is this real?
Who could love someone as misshapen as me?
Sometimes you need to let these thoughts out in a scream.
But I don't have a voice here.
No one would hear me
Or care.
So what can I do
Except spill this broken heart onto a page -
All the messy words blurring together...
And I hope someone hears it...
Sees it...
Knows it...
Knows me.
It doesn't feel good to feel bad...
YOU ARE READING
Poems (collection 1.0)
Poetryplease don't read this (i laugh here, but i'm not joking). this is a relic. consider this the museum of my progression in writing. you can find the better (marginally) stuff from this one in "Poems (collection 2.0)". Thoughtful, often sad, and angr...
