It likes me when I'm all alone,
when I don't have anyone to accompany me.
It likes me when I'm vulnerable,
when it can seep into my pores and violate my body.
It likes me slowly soaked in tears,
when I have to long for them to come out.
It likes me in pieces,
when I'm easier to shatter.
This Darkness likes me lonely.
This Darkness likes to pick and choose
moments when it seeps in,
and how long it'll stay in.
This Darkness likes me lonely.
This Darkness likes one-on-one
sessions where it creeps in,
and talks when it keeps me in.
I think it's mad that I've changed my locks
'cause it just broke a window.
My lights won't turn on,
My water is all cold,
and the winter's wind is coming in.
I can't bear another
call saying that they can't come in.
I can't bear another
day staying in this house I'm in.
I can't bear another
drop of this Darkness getting in.
I need to get out of this house,
but there are no doors.
My skin is crawling,
for it feels like I have clothes no more.
My tears are dry,
so I yell my cries instead.
This is the first time in a while that I thought
That I'd be better off dead.
This was written during the worst time in a while.
12/19/19
YOU ARE READING
Feelings, maybe?
PoetryI have been writing down my feelings after any event that I had been emotionally affected by. They come out as slightly cryptic, half-poems, so I guess I'll post some of them here. Most of them will have dates because I might not post them in order.
