This is the beginning of it all. they may be physically gone and no longer present but what has been constructed and lives now is what matters. right after they left all i felt was emptiness. no direction. in a place where nobody could help. to find myself and what i needed. though they aren't back. they're never coming back
and instead what sits in the empty rooms they vacated is me. i filled the space. i moved myself in. but the place will always be "theirs" and the room will never be filled completely
the simplicity of the act of closing every other door—i shut everyone out to get back in. sitting here writing this, i still can't tell if it was meant to be, . selfish stupidity for my behavior in thinking i'd benefit from my own solitude. naïve as well for the pity i despise but decidedly fed myself. all because i was too scared to speak to anyone. too afraid of people and their strong opinions. my own brand of sin because i still can't handle the days when i'm not enough. because of so many that have brought me down, unintentionally and by plain incident. that i accepted this feeling of undeserving worthlessness. like so that i'm proud of what i've done to save myself from such reoccurring pain but in consequence i'm incapable of finding the keys i threw away to let you come in.
-keys to a heart
YOU ARE READING
You
Poetry"You"- meaning the you personally and You aside from me. This book talks about the You individually and going through times when you are your own light but, also when all you see and when all you feel is darkness. The You I dream about and need and...
