My dear,
Help. I think I got lost.
I look around,
I have no clue where I am right now.
This scares me.
So much.
I've crossed this road so many times,
I've seen these faces so many times,
but yet they feel so unfamiliar.
I'm tired of thinking.
I keep looking for answers,
I keep expecting things from others
and it's been my whole life
I'm not getting them.
It's tiring, you know.
It's sad, more than you know.
I'm so not born right in this world,
I don't belong here.
But here I am: and I get to survive,
instead of living.
Oh look,
there's a voice coming from there,
I can hear it rather clearly.
It speaks loud words,
Covered in tears.
It sounds like a poem,
Like one of those petrifying,
terrible poems
you never wanted to read at school.
"I miss everything about you,
I can't do anything about it.
I'm so sorry to be late
This is just some cruel fate.
You was keeping me awake
but never I was aware
you were lying
"I'll be there"
now I'm lost
and you don't care.
You were mine,
I was yours.
No one cares
No one knows.
And yet now
such a shame
you're around,
different frame.
Let's go back,
Do I want to?
I don't know,
but you don't,
so..."
Aish, this hurts.
Kill my thoughts!
They're devouring me.
They're always there
The saddest part of me.
I can't help it,
Not alone.
You know what?
Fuck it, now
I'll come back home.
Ha! Home?!
What am I even talking about.
I don't know what a home is.
Of course it's not the walls
protecting you from the rain,
It's not the bed
that keeps you warm at night,
It's not the family,
pretending to love you right.
But I used to know what a home is,
Oh, damn. I forgot it.
Maybe you were home?
I don't know,
I'll never know.
Help, where am I?
Hello, can somebody hear me?
Oh, I see those doors.
They look so frightening and dark.
Am I finally gone to hell?
Cause if it is, I'm not scared.
I believe,
if there's someone
behind that door.
It'd better be my cure
Or it'd better be scared of me.
I open my eyes.
Here I am.
Now I know
Where I am.
Look,
Look what you've done to me,
Look how helpless I am,
Look how bad I need your cure,
Look how much I need to be rescued.
I was lost
in the darkest place,
the most obscure
troubled, damned:
My mind.
YOU ARE READING
Unsent.
Poetry"My Dear, It's a beautiful day outside, But I don't feel like enjoying it..." _________________________________________ A series of unsent letters. Some of them may contain inappropriate language or behaviours and some of them may be completely poin...
