Spent time of your mind rather full of bizarre memories and of slamming doors, doors to those who you offered your friendship but reject slipped from their tongue lashing at you with cruel words hidden behind short replies, and sometimes none at all, they have their problems their own reasons to shut you out, pretend you don't exist, you go to her, the girl who sits alone at a table with no one, taking in gasps of annoyance, curled up in your heart dances excitement, you know she is alone but so are you, and you have finally found someone to relate too, you approach her with a kind smile and a head full of greetings, As you get closer you realise her face changing into what seems to be curiousity for your slow pace toward her, but you are quickly shattered with thoughts of regret and pity for yourself when that image changes into disgust and your direction changes instantly for you only needed to go to the bathroom, hide in the stall, feel redundant, knowing that such an effort to stake confidence sprinkling yourself in hope for anything good quite stupid, you walk out of the smelly cramped stall and gaze into the mirror, you look at the coward, you look at you, the image of a confused girl who tries her luck with kindness toward all, only to be insulted, ditzy, simple, stupid, so much so that you began uttering these words to yourself in the darkest part of your mind thinking maybe its true, but in the fuller part knowing that it is true, to skinny, to stupid, to flat, words that hurt but the one shoving the blade into your weak flesh the most is you, dizzying yourself with self hate, and a underlying habit of comparing yourself to every person only to find yourself disappointed that you're only you, everyone assumes you live in weak nature unable to protect your simple mind, but if only they knew the demons that crawl feasting on your innocence and forcing you into an abyss, one where the only way to escape is to hide yourself in an image That is not your own, fit in, the only rule that matters is that you are just like the rest, because your not important, your you
YOU ARE READING
Beneath my Cloak
PoetryLess a book then random poetry. I decided to give it a try. I write crappy poetry all the time why not share it and give it a shot to relate.
