I've always wondered what it's like
To have feelings for someone
I've felt for the protagonist in movies and books
My gut wrenching, tears streaming down my face
My hand silencing my sobs
But sympathy is an experience not of my own
How empathetic can I be
But never hold my own feelings
Dating doesn't work for me
Constantly using the cliche
"It's not you, it's me"
But it's the truth
And how cliche can the truth be
If it truly is me
I can't feel
I can't fall for anyone
And that's what makes me cry
And I cry harder, because there is one thing I do feel
Hurt
I know what it's like to hurt
To feel pain
To sit in sorrow
And wonder when it will go away
Asking God "why?"
And hiccuping after at my blasphemy
Because I'm not a believer
Not until I feel like it's the end
Like asking the sky to bend
But it never will
Just like I'll never feel
No matter how much I want to
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the Hurt
PoetryExcerpts ~~ Numbness creeps into the very veins that refuse to speak for me And yet they still bleed With every puncture Every laceration Everything that is ever forged out of hiding abiding by crippling sensations ~~ Perpetual sadness It hurts And...
