It turns out I am not as forgiving as I look.
No matter how hard I try.
It seems I am,
Sitting overlooking,
And contemplating on things.
That's just me.
My being.
My essence.
What I bring to the universe.
You realize that you can't keep up.
But know that what I have to offer,
Is detrimental to the overall growth,
Of yourself and of myself as well.
I was not created to bring peace.
I was not,
Created to solve problems.
Nor become something more,
Of what I had to offer.
Therefore I am stuck.
Not sure what I should make of me.
I am not the resolution.
I am the conclusion that there is,
Everything wrong with me.
Me,
As a whole,
A wrap.
A person that,
You no longer have to worry about.
Gone.
Forgotten.
It just seems correct.
I am not as it seems.
A flower with its petal,
Blowing slowly,
Briskly past the trees.
YOU ARE READING
Dim.
PoetryTired of trying to be everything. Trying to be perfect. Wrong paths and wrong people and missed opportunities. Am I letting my mental illness take over my life? A look into the mind of a BPD, Anxiety ridden woman. With no identity but her Panic. W...
