A poem for me, utterly confused
My feet hurt
From running on the rough edge of the street
No shoes, no socks
My hair and clothes were soaked by now
Completely drenched in rain and desolation
Each drop another word or name you called me
Dissatisfaction on the tip of my tongue
But i couldn’t reach for answers
What on earth did I do this time
To be deemed so unworthy
To be called so unholy
To be hurt, yet again
By you
i ran
I ran so my heart could run rampant, avoiding the pit of hell below,
my stomach
Which burned with acid, churned with bitterness
Poignancy pulsing through my veins
I longed for a place to call home
determined and dejected
I gasped for each breath of mild dewy air
And tasted the cynical sweetness
All I could think of was why can’t the sun make it all go away
L e a v e m e a l o n e
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:24 AM UTC
A poem for me, utterly confused
My feet hurt
From running on the rough edge of the street
No shoes, no socks
My hair and clothes were soaked by now
Completely drenched in rain and desolation
Each drop another word or name you called me
Dissatisfaction on the tip of my tongue
But i couldn’t reach for answers
What on earth did I do this time
To be deemed so unworthy
To be called so unholy
To be hurt, yet again
By you
i ran
I ran so my heart could run rampant, avoiding the pit of hell below,
my stomach
Which burned with acid, churned with bitterness
Poignancy pulsing through my veins
I longed for a place to call home
determined and dejected
I gasped for each breath of mild dewy air
And tasted the cynical sweetness
All I could think of was why can’t the sun make it all go away
L e a v e m e a l o n e