A film over my eyes,
Keeps me out.
Like I am the mime,
In the box.
I am drowning,
And they float.
I am standing,
When they fly.
I am running,
When they walk.
I am the Omega,
And they are Alphas.
I am made from the night,
When they carry the day.
I am grieving my life,
When they live theirs.
I am the fallen flower petal,
And they are the flower itself.
It's an endless cycle,
I cannot stop the comparison.
Because I am on the outside,
While they sink into bliss.
YOU ARE READING
Wilted
PoetryShe couldn't see him, But she was all he could see. Raw Poetry, by: Mae Ethlyn
