You would think to be dead inside would mean i don't feel alive, but i do. i just don't feel alive—alive. in the way an emotionally stable person would. that something is holding me captive. like i'm locked in a box without the strength to escape. but i'd tell you i'm really living. going through each day with a smile on my face and lies on my tongue
though i feel as if i'm on the brink. the edge of something significant. of a life i've imagined. a life with less pain. of brighter days and more genuine times—a future i know will one day come with hope . consisting of a stronger self. but every more so compassionate and understanding to my own feelings and others who matter the most to me. but right now, now i feel alone. with these thoughts of darkness because i can't evade this hell i've grown up in.
-the weather is changing
YOU ARE READING
You
Poetry"You"- meaning the you personally and You aside from me. This book talks about the You individually and going through times when you are your own light but, also when all you see and when all you feel is darkness. The You I dream about and need and...
