iwishiwas - Hello Poetry

I always thought it was my own misery that is choking me. But it turns out it is his that bloats like a balloon until it overshadows every tiny bit of mine. And yet all I do is slide out of the room silently yet loud at the same time, because when I leave I poke the balloon until it burst and reveals thousand tiny tears for a thousand tiny mistakes. And I can’t bear to watch it all float around and mix with the air and the water until it forms a cloud, hanging over me like a gloomy Sunday afternoon and I just pray to be gone before it starts to rain. And I put on stories like flashy dark sunglasses, wrapping my whole world in a different shade of dark. Because the sun burns ruthlessly. And I just know I’m about to burn up. And all my ashes will smell of secret and lies and tragic unspoken apologies. They will be bitter like that.

0

Feb 6, 2020

Feb 6, 2020 at 9:08 AM UTC

Untitled

I always thought it was my own misery that is choking me. But it turns out it is his that bloats like a balloon until it overshadows every tiny bit of mine. And yet all I do is slide out of the room silently yet loud at the same time, because when I leave I poke the balloon until it burst and reveals thousand tiny tears for a thousand tiny mistakes. And I can’t bear to watch it all float around and mix with the air and the water until it forms a cloud, hanging over me like a gloomy Sunday afternoon and I just pray to be gone before it starts to rain. And I put on stories like flashy dark sunglasses, wrapping my whole world in a different shade of dark. Because the sun burns ruthlessly. And I just know I’m about to burn up. And all my ashes will smell of secret and lies and tragic unspoken apologies. They will be bitter like that.

3

Months are swallowing minutes and hours Silently ripping this now into tiny little scattered pieces of unfitting purpose I am still searching for the lost time While everyone else seems to find their place to shine Meanwhile, I am stuck in an unfinished day

0

Feb 6, 2020

Feb 6, 2020 at 7:48 AM UTC

Months

Months are swallowing minutes and hours Silently ripping this now into tiny little scattered pieces of unfitting purpose I am still searching for the lost time While everyone else seems to find their place to shine Meanwhile, I am stuck in an unfinished day

7

So we lie in our unmade beds crumpled beneath our silent forms And we stare at the walls around us tucked in tight like blankets keeping out the moon and the stars And everything cold Here we lie All the time until we pass on to another dream to another day.

0

Feb 6, 2020

Feb 6, 2020 at 7:43 AM UTC

to another

So we lie in our unmade beds crumpled beneath our silent forms And we stare at the walls around us tucked in tight like blankets keeping out the moon and the stars And everything cold Here we lie All the time until we pass on to another dream to another day.

10