You don't trust yourself,
you don't trust your hands as they fumble with the bottle of pills,
usually afraid you will take too many,
now afraid the even these can't pull you out of this world.
This world filled with poison and broken opportunities,
broken hearts,
broken soul,
and a broken you,
This void space pulls you inside until you can't breath,
until you can't see,
and until you can't hear,
but your feeling? Oh they were numb anyway!
You almost couldn't tell the difference between your suffocated forms emotion and your,supposedly, normal forms,
Hands claw at your neck and they aren't only yours,
A sweaty palm smashes against your face as it turns towards the mirror,
the mirror of self loathe,
you see all the times they called you names,
yet you also see the times you did the same,
all the times you called yourself pathetic,
you abuse yourself,
both mentally and physically,
you cut your body,
trying to get it to be absolutely "perfect",
sculpting just to find it ruined,
During all this you fail to realise
that you are already perfect,
your mind works faster than a rocket,
your untrustworthy hands are capable of wonders,
you are unaware of the lives you could save if you become a doctor,
the beauty you can bring to the world if you become an artist,
the future you can built if you persue engineering,
the happiness you can get if you just reach out for your dreams,
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This is self explanatory. Its my first non-rhyming poem! This ended up a little too long so I will be dividing it in two parts.
Love,
Mephoria.
YOU ARE READING
Epiphame
Poetry"So then I dyed my voice a beautiful shade of grey. Not too bright and not too loud." ۞۞ Epiphany + Me Epiphame: A sudden realisation dawning upon Me. ۞۞ In this poetry book I will be writing about things that I feel should be brought forward mor...
