One Night

Photo by Aliyah Jamous on Unsplash

One night, two people.

Calling me names, blasting me to others.

Some say it doesn’t matter.

I should forget it and move on.

It’s their loss and blah blah blah…

Bullshit!

Why does it hurt so badly if all these other people say it shouldn’t.

Why am I the target? Am I weak?

Why is it so hard to walk away? Why do I want to keep talking?

And why do I get so angry? Why am I so hurt?

Nothing is Working

Photo by Zachary Kadolph on Unsplash

Nothing is working.

Nothing I say matters.

Nothing is working.

Nothing I say matters.

I pace back and forth outside in the cold.

Back and forth trying to calm myself. 

I know I shouldn’t have shouted but nothing is working.

My throat hurts and I sit outside thinking of what I could have done better. 

Nothing is working.

Nothing I say matters.

Nothing is working.

Nothing I say matters.

Wondering what I said wrong and why they aren’t listening.

Nothing is working, maybe it’s me.

Am I a bad mom?

Why don’t they care about each other, about their grades, about anything?

What is wrong with his generation?

Nothing is working.

Nothing I say matters.

Nothing is working.

Nothing I say matters.

To Hide Away

Photo by Dmitry Ratushny on Unsplash

I want to hide away,

Away from all of you.





You may think my pain is about you.

You may think I am thinking about you.

No one thinks about you.

No one cares where you are.

You think they should; you demand they do,

And that is why they don’t care where you are.


I want to hide away,

Away from all of you.

All to the pain,

The heartless words, only said to hurt.

No feeling inside.





I want to hide away,

Away from you.

All the pain you cause, when I have more.

My pain is not about you, though you think everything is.

Everything isn’t about you, though you want it all to be about you.

You want to hurt and tear people down.

This is why I hide away.


I want to hide away.

Away from you.

Away from all your pain.

The heart words, you only say to hurt.

No feelings inside.

The darkness pours over my soul

The darkness pours over my soul

The darkness pours over my soul

As endless waves rush in.

The rising of the tide pulls me in further. 

Pulling my heart and filling it with dread. 

I found myself caught in the tide, while my body struggles to be free.

The darkness shrouds my existence, and soon I am gasping for air. 

The dark waters pulling me down, filling my lungs with regret and despair.

I reach out trying to break the surface, but the darkness is always there. 

Pulling me back, pulling me down to the depths, I plummet. 

The pressure keeps me down, night after night, day after day,

I can’t see the light, the darkness is all I know.

Throw my feelings in the trash and stomp all over them!

 

 

trashPhoto by Antoine GIRET on Unsplash

 

Do my feelings not matter to you?

Do you think you can do what you want?

Screw me, because I don’t matter!

Throw my feelings in the trash and stomp all over them!

 

Did you even think to talk to me?

Did you think I wouldn’t care?

Did you even think of me?

 

I know you didn’t think of me!

I know no one does!

 

It’s better to not expect anything from anyone!

They always disappoint!

I expect too much from people and I am the one who gets hurt.

 

Did you even think to talk to me?

Did you think I wouldn’t care?

Did you even think of me?

 

Throw my feelings in the trash and stomp all over them!

Am I Your Friend

friend

Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

 


Am I your friend?

Do you really care about me the way I care about you?

We use the terms best friends of is that just me?

But is that truly what I am to you?

 

Do I think more of you than you think of me?

When my usefulness is gone, will you also leave?

Why do these questions haunt me so?

 

I worry about the future, like an endless sea of doubt. 

Doubting myself and others, will I ever be happy.

Am I your friend?

friend

Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

 

 

Am I your friend?

Do you really care about me the way I care about you?

We use the terms best friends of is that just me?

But is that truly what I am to you?

 

Do I think more of you than you think of me?

When my usefulness is gone, will you also leave?

Why do these questions haunt me so?

 

I worry about the future, like an endless sea of doubt. 

Doubting myself and others, will I ever be happy.