It's funny,
It really is,
How everytime I have a hard time,
Everytime I feel worthless,
I come rushing back,
Rushing back to that one place
Where it had all begun.
It's funny,
How even having the loudest mouth,
My screams go unheard,
How my laughter is hard to ignore,
Yet my tears remain unshed,
Before even falling,
They vanish in thin air.
It's funny,
How I act like I don't care,
Like an emotionless selfish monster,
But inside me,
Weeps the most feeble being,
Doubt "a beast" is what
You'll ever call her.
It's funny,
How much I crave,
For a touch
When everything comes crashing down,
Yet cry in a place,
Where no one's steps
Will ever fall upon.
It's funny,
How I never stop talking,
But when I'm broke,
When I need to let my emotions flow,
My voice, it disappears,
And everything I wanted to say,
Gets caged in my heart, forever locked.
It's funny,
How I drift people away,
Lying to myself,
That I can manage on my own,
Yet deep inside,
I too sometimes wish
That someone will come by,
Give me a hug,
Or a pat on my shoulder,
Or just hold my hands,
And say that
"It'll be all okay."
Even though
Reality will say otherwise,
For a moment
I really do want to believe,
That it'll be fine.
It's funny,
How in any given moment,
Everything I've said so far
Will be called cheesy by me,
Weak people I'll call them,
I'll try to convince myself
That I'm strong,
And I'm not like them,
Yet deep inside
I know that I'm no different.
YOU ARE READING
Shattered Pieces
Random"Once I had a mirror, With which I could look into my mind. But one day, it fell And shattered into millions of pieces All of whom I have yet to find." This is a collection of all those missing pieces.
