I tell myself to breathe,
not that my lungs would listen,
so i still gasp for air,
but all is well.
I tell myself to dream,
not that my brain would listen,
so I live hopeless, with nightmares,
but I'm alright.
I tell myself not to cry,
not that my eyes would listen,
so I wipe my tears,
but I am fine.
My troubles would bother you,
So I hide my troubles.
My sorrows are so deep,
that you would drown in them.
It's okay,
I'm okay.
I still hope for one day.
One day.
YOU ARE READING
Everything, Nothing
PoetryYour dreams are supposed to give you solace, but what if what followed was filled with pain, desolation, and confusion? You want to do something, but you are clueless. All you know is that everything's wrong, and nothing's right. Enjoy the poetry...