I was so close
to tricking myself,
to falling for the illusion
that I willingly made.
I thought when they spoke,
facing me, looking me in the eye,
that I existed,
that they were talking to me,
but I was wrong.
"You," does not
refer to me, and
I should have known this.
I am invisible, unreal,
they do not see or
hear me.
I am simply
a part of the wind,
but even that
is too real a thing
to describe me.
No, they'd rather not
face me, for they would have to see
the monster that I am,
the human that I am.
And they will lie,
claiming that they care, that
I mean something, that
I am something.
But I see it in their actions,
their rush to leave when
I am all that is left.
They are so willing
to speak these candied words
whilst stabbing me.
But
they are right to leave me,
I am nothing and
I deserve to have nothing,
or rather, I deserve
the loneliness,
the emptiness
inside me.
YOU ARE READING
My Voice
PuisiPoems meant to express things I can't always bring myself to say, emotions that run so deep in my veins, and thoughts that hang over my head. I hope you can enjoy this, or find something that makes you feel less alone at the very least. Many of thes...
