There you stand.
Taunting me.
A finger pointed,
longing to be
far away.
Where I'm free.
Free.
Free to be who I want to.
Not what you do.
Who I am.
I am me.
I am not scared of you,
but of the things that are in this world.
They're what scare me most.
But would you care?
Oh, hell no.
You'd never listen to my wonderings.
Everything you should be there for;
you're not.
And, I'm lost.
Lost and scared.
YOU ARE READING
Identical Hearts
PoetryThis is a collection of my poetry that I've written over the years. Stories of survival, love and loss, heartbreak and heartache. Keep reading they get better with time..