What do you say to someone that refuses the feelings of love and lust?
Forced to live a life where everything is a bust.
A broken idea written on wet paper.
Never permanent, never immanent, always saved for later.
Closed minded and hurt.
With the ideas of ever being happy are burnt.
You hate yourself.
Why hate yourself?
When there's so much to love.
So much to see.
So much to speak.
Your words can move civilizations.
Your smile can shake the dead awake.
You are the light at the end of the tunnel.
Always shining.
Yet you don't see yourself that way.
When you look in the mirror, you see the engulfing darkness.
Meant to drag the sad and truly depressed to hell where they'll soon confess.
How wrong they really were.
YOU ARE READING
Words.
PoetryThis is a book I write in to relieve my mind of the horror it creates for itself. Poems or not, they're words. Definitions or examples, they're words. My words. Read it or not, they're my words.
