Self-pity is a mirror...and I cannot look away
I stare...
...At my reflection...
This...overgrown mistake
Wishing that my shame would convert to tears and drown me
Erasing this mistake of the past
Erasing dreams that would have never been
Because to think, to love, to hope
Is not to be done by those who
Shouldn't have a future, who
Shouldn't try to live life
Because life is not for them...for me
This world is not for me
It is way too huge of a mountain: insurmountable
That's why tornadoes are rarely found there
Their path of destruction determined by the way the wind blows
And though it may have good intentions, many are left for dead
Running away from a dizzy force that just goes in circles
Because it's just, it's just confused
It doesn't want to cause pain...
I'm sure tornadoes dream of being an easy breeze
That everyone welcomes on a hot, summer day...
But no, everyone flees as the tornado comes their way
Yet tornadoes are just lost and confused
Dizzy from constantly trying...and failing...to find...love...
And at the top of the mountain
Lies all you've ever "wanted"
Making it impossible for the lost to be comforted
Making love a lost dream 'cause hope got lost somewhere...
...in the tornado
Does the tornado know...
That hope circles within its funnels of doom?
Does it know...
That mistakes can be loved?
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts in Bold Ink
PoetryDuring these teen years, I am at the door way between childhood and adulthood. As I take these baby steps, I don't ever want to leave behind pieces of me that I'm discovering, nor should I ever leave behind who I must always be. As I close the door...
