A will to live
I don't know why things are the way they are.
Fast cars driving off to the deep end along with the very worthless person in it.
By worthless I mean they solely believe they are. They look in the mirror of every god forgotten day and tell themselves no one will love you and no one cares.
They get away with murder.
They get away with murdering themselves and self destructing.
They hunt after the prey and attack right when the creature is most vulnerable.
And you know what they do after, they drink.
And try to erase the mistakes the person has made and erase every god memorable thing.
They get in the car after a long night of swallowing their deepest regrets and continuously ask themselves why.
They might actually even voice the thought out loud when so far under the never ending water that is like a pressure suffocating them. Building and building more intensity as their lungs expand to the point in which they exploded and they can't breathe anymore.
And maybe it's a good thing they can't breathe.
Feeling resentment and betrayal washed away as the water pours like a rainstorm down into the gutter.
They get that second breathe taking securness in numbness.
They finally get that coating relief they've never felt in finally being able to drown everything out.
The music goes unheard.
The drinks go spilled.
The unworthiness cancels out.
And the pain still goes hollowing out the body as the kid drives their car off the cliff.
Off the haywire.
Cause in the end they can't find a will to live.
Maybe it's not best they didn't learn their worth.
YOU ARE READING
POEMS I WRITE
PoesíaI write a lot. I love reading books about love and such, but I write darkly and I try not to let my book I'm trying to write be so dark, but I want to release a book about my poems. And though they are incredibly dark and they hurt to let the soul r...
