I gave up writing poems
I didn't see the point
As words do nothing
To stop and start feelings
In my head.
I feel like the slowest
Rollercoaster in a dead city
And yet never see the lows
Coming and mourn them
On the way.
I'm sick of feeling
Lonely surrounded by people
And feeling like I'm missing
Out on living no matter what I do.
I could have loved you
I could have seen and done
And touched and cried.
But foresight was foggy
And hindsight was clear
And I don't even know what
Is dear to me anymore.
So maybe I like the reflection
Of words like a mirror
I can't look away from,
Maybe words are my ugly
11pm truth.
Maybe these words are for you.
Aug 14, 2022
Aug 14, 2022 at 6:44 PM UTC
I gave up writing poems
I didn't see the point
As words do nothing
To stop and start feelings
In my head.
I feel like the slowest
Rollercoaster in a dead city
And yet never see the lows
Coming and mourn them
On the way.
I'm sick of feeling
Lonely surrounded by people
And feeling like I'm missing
Out on living no matter what I do.
I could have loved you
I could have seen and done
And touched and cried.
But foresight was foggy
And hindsight was clear
And I don't even know what
Is dear to me anymore.
So maybe I like the reflection
Of words like a mirror
I can't look away from,
Maybe words are my ugly
11pm truth.
Maybe these words are for you.
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