When i rise each day,
I neatly stuff my pillows with relentless nightmares.
They remind me of my lonely childhood.
Gently I tuck my longing to belong under my heavy blankets of dwindling hope.
Chameleon tendencies shelter me from ridicule.
The masks I wear match my atmosphere.
The masquerade must go on.
Society doesn't get the privilege to see my misery.
Misfit, black sheep, ***** little secret.
A unwanted ****** baby.
Disposed of like trash.
Never been needed, desired or loved.
Reality is I never will be.
I've been force fed hate,
And was told I should be grateful.
Never felt a parents love.
Love was forgien and confusing to me.
Still is.
That's what God intended for me.
L. Mack
1-6-26
Jan 6
Jan 6, 2026 at 5:54 AM UTC
When i rise each day,
I neatly stuff my pillows with relentless nightmares.
They remind me of my lonely childhood.
Gently I tuck my longing to belong under my heavy blankets of dwindling hope.
Chameleon tendencies shelter me from ridicule.
The masks I wear match my atmosphere.
The masquerade must go on.
Society doesn't get the privilege to see my misery.
Misfit, black sheep, ***** little secret.
A unwanted ****** baby.
Disposed of like trash.
Never been needed, desired or loved.
Reality is I never will be.
I've been force fed hate,
And was told I should be grateful.
Never felt a parents love.
Love was forgien and confusing to me.
Still is.
That's what God intended for me.
L. Mack
1-6-26
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