Relief, that's what I was expecting afterwards.
It never really came.
I had shared one of my darkest secrets and no relief came.
Even though she did everything right, said it wasn't my fault, said not to ever keep something like this again.
It felt good to finally tell someone, but that relief that I was craving, that feeling of freedom from my own mind it never came.
Instead it made me feel like a freak.
Like a punk.
I tell myself I'm weak now.
It tells me that I don't deserve to feel better, that nothing will help me.
That I'm hurting my parents.
That I'm stressing my friend.
Punk.
- e.h
YOU ARE READING
Teen
PoetryI recall the bad times. Info: Status: Ongoing I put this on mature only because there is cursing and references (but I don't just flat out say it), so yeah use your discretion. May be triggering for some. NOTE: If your're not aware I have a YouTu...
