If I'm so pretty,
Why aren't I happy?
If I'm so pretty,
Why does it hurt?
If I'm so pretty,
Why do I feel like someone I don't want to be?
Maybe it's the near street lights dimly glaring off shaded storefront glass that deceives the eye,
Or perhaps the intimate truth one feels with themselves upon their reflection shining back through the looking glass.
Neither of these are to be said with certainty, nor do they bid an answer.
For it is only when one's suffering becomes overbearing,
Nonsensically unmatched to how they truly feel,
Do raindrops fall from their eyes in the cumbersome atmosphere they've unintentionally induced upon themselves.
How bitter the grey seems, and yet some won't find cover from the storm.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryJust a collection of poems I wrote, most have darker themes, so here's your angst/trigger warning if you need it. I write these on a pc so if the format looks weird on your phone that's probably why.
