This isn't just you
It's hurting other people too
I'm being slammed between forces
One that hates me
Is disgusted by me
Wishes they had never known me
And ignores me
I'm speaking
But no one is listening
No one knows the pain
Of having someone turn so swiftly
And leave you standing in the pouring rain
Wondering what went wrongly
I'm turning inwards
Trying to by strong
I'm attempting to move forwards
But I know I won't hold long
I'll break
And be long gone
Goodbye
So long
Good riddance
Are the words I'm afraid to hear
Or the worst
The silence
Because you are no longer here
Who stay by someone who that hate?
Not a sane person
Not you
But me
Even if you hate me
I'll never turn my back on you
It's the way I live
Every breath I give
Is so you won't know
No one understands how I've held so long
How I've kept moving
Kept living
I see the person I once knew
In you
And since you hate me
I won't pain you by my presence
I'll stay in the shadows
And hoping that you know
If you ever need anything
I'm always present
A/N: People hate me and I don't know why. They keep saying I'm lying and stabbing them in the back. It's gotten so bad that a few people are starting to fear for my life. Someone once told me that my pain is just as important as everybody else's. I don't have to hide it. It's not a burden to anyone. I want people to know I'm hurting but don't want to burden them in any way. I've been told that telling people they're hurting me is okay, but I'm scared. I'm afraid they'll think that I'm selfish for caring about my pain when they're experiencing so much themselves. A few months ago, they would've cared and tried to help. Now I'm afraid they'll hate me more. (If that's possible.)
Sorry for all of the crap I just said. The person who I want to read this won't because they hate me. So there was no point to that. *Shrug* I don't think life can get any worse for me, so why the heck not.
YOU ARE READING
Inner Silence
PoetryThe inner silence is always there. Waiting. watching. recording. Recording the chaos and misery of my existence. A collection of depressing poems of my life.