With every imperfect moment in life
There comes a tsunami
My insecurities, my shame, my nightmares
All come crashing down on me at once
Invading my joy as the painful thoughts go in circles
When it’s all over, and one never knows when,
I come back slightly, just slightly, worse than before
I look over at you; you and your vacant stare
Agony emulating form your eyes
And I wonder: what’s your tsunami made of?
What are the lies that kill you slowly?
How many times will your tsunami hold you back
Until there is no coming back?
I don’t know the answers
And I won’t pretend I do
So how about we hurt together
And maybe heal each other?
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...
