"No one likes you"
Said the mirror.
"Look at you, why do you even try?"
Murmured the sun.
"Your face is hideous."
Whispered the wind.
I lock myself away,
their comments still passing through my walls.
I cry at night and blame my eyes,
Punch the pillows and scream inside.
The only witness are the four walls.
There was no escape.
I cover my ears and close my eyes,
Count the days and count the lies.
They don't add up,
I still was crying.
The tears coming like falls.
I try not to talk to myself,
In the hopes someone else will.
But nobody wanted to.
All they'd do is stare,
Until there's nothing left but pity,
Towards the girl who ruined herself.
YOU ARE READING
Tacenda ➵ poems
PuisiTacenda (Noun) Things better left unsaid, matters to be passed over in silence. - all poems made by chantal horanstan//cinnamoniall-
