15.09.20
One simple question proved they understand.
A question so real, full of emotion
making me cry, while I pretended to laugh.
A question so loaded it made me want to lie,
it made me feel insecure and shy
to say the truth instead of holding it all inside.
You've seen me for who I am.
You've seen me drop down lower than the ground
even though I share it, these dark thoughts,
my poetry still feels like a secret.
It's a secret that I still keep, I try not to flaunt it,
but sometimes I need people to read it.
Knowing that my friends read my writing
I'm both proud and ashamed.
My darkest secrets, my biggest fears
it's all in here.
This is the kind of writing that I'm scared it will be taken away.
This is the kind of emotions I hide all the time,
so when they ask me how I am
I just say 'I'm fine'.
It sounds so stupid and ridiculous to say,
but I can't let the people closest to me read all the bad things that's happened to me.
I want to make them smile and be happy,
it doesn't matter if I'm suffering and crying.
To know that my friends, the people I care about,
to know that they're laughing and having a good time
that's all that matters to me.
YOU ARE READING
4. Memories and Feelings That Still Haunt Me
PoetryI've cried too hard for too long as I debated death. Over and over, all I wanted was a quick overdose, a quick way to escape the pain. Until the guilt set it and made me realise, suicide feels too selfish. Instead I turned my sadness into art and my...
