I feel like In every home there's a storm constantly raging. Wind constantly throwing things not even giving you the time to think. Rain drowning you and pelting down so hard it feels better underwater; where sounds meld together and thoughts are never fully thought.
I'm not helpful when people are sad.
If I said 'there's a storm coming' and you replayed 'when?' I wouldn't know. I can't look to the sky for answers. I either see a clear sky or it's so dark I've already closed my eyes. Waiting to feel the rain on my face, finally cooling the fury of thoughts dancing within my mind.
I'm lost in a storm that's in my own home. It's in my room. It follows me to school, only to disappear and I always feel bad for leaving it behind.
I'm not sad.
I've been sad before, this isn't sad
04/14/2020
YOU ARE READING
Fuck You, Nicely
PoetryOne finding themselves, ups and downs; streams of melancholy and yearning of the heart. Contains time stamps of a life that seem to fade too fast and rants through life lessons I often forget. There might be some triggers with eating and just mental...
