Why is it that every time
I want to build something
With you, it's like I've
Committed a crime?
Yes, I realize it's stupid
To want something the
Same time I feel useless.
But I can't stop thinking.
I can't stop feeling.
I just can't stop.
What's wrong with me?
Why does no one care?
These thoughts are getting to me.
I'm practically pulling out my hair.
Am I ugly? Inside and out?
Am I annoying or just about?
It feels like they're all against me,
As if they couldn't care less
For the girl that won't take a hint
And has anxiety and stress.
You don't have a problem
With what's between my thighs.
So you keep feeding and
Feeding me these lies.
"You're beautiful!"
"I adore you so!"
Those words are empty
You and I both know.
YOU ARE READING
Sure, Thanks, I am Fine
PoetryDepression Anxiety Insomnia Heartbreak Unloved Crazy Scared Joyful Happy Bullied Everything listed here is something I've either felt or gone through. As have many others. But is it easy to say out loud? No, it never is.
