My present self in an isolated self
But my mind wanders off,
My heart for a second flutters
and it feels the joy
But at the next second it's there no more.
They says you should count your blessings
I can't.
I want to. I really do.
But I can't.
I cannot be happy at my
own happiness
I am my own saboteur.
My nemesis.
The evil witch in my own fairytale.
And does that make me repulsive?
I don't know...
There was a time when Poems didn't make any sense to me. I won't pretend to be that person who was all scholar and poetic from her early age. The interpretation was too challenging and I used to get baffled by it and give up. I still do give up. Some old habits die hard.
Even now when I read some, off we go hopping on to the train of thoughts. Hence, I never end up finishing one.
Some Weeks back, I was sharing my wisdom(barely.. it was more of ranting) with a friend of mine and ended up writing this. It was her who said, I have accidentally wrote a poem. So I should work on it and make it official. Now I don't want to go all poet mode but I would love to cherish this writing as a memoir. A memoir of me stepping out of normality and expressing myself. A memoir of appreciation to get a friend who would notice things about you which you fail to do. 🌻
YOU ARE READING
Scattered Thoughts
PoetrySabrina's Journal of thoughts. After getting tired of being continuously anxious, sad, panicking about the uncertainty of life and being lost on the process of evolving over and over again she thought of writing down everything she felt. Here everyo...
