"yorself" poems
Shielf yorself
From others hate
For those arrows are sharp
And always penetrate
Even through the adrenaline
You might not feel it
But the wound is there
Pussing and peeling
Shield yourself
From enemies hatae
For it's not worth
The furure pain
Dec 22, 2011
Dec 22, 2011 at 8:46 AM UTC
The thing is, we all pretend to be what we are not. And it is really tiring, to act like you are somebody else. It is tiring to be a fake. But, on the other hand, you dont really know who you actually are, and you try your best to find the person you are but get lost, get lost in the 1000 personalities you have, get lost inside yorself. And then you realize you -yourself- are a lie, you are nothing. This idea makes you scared, scared that you may disappear and fade away someday. And with the emptiness in your heart you stare at the reflection in the mirror, and hate every bit of the person you are not. And when you try to change it and get control, you become lost even more. It doesnt end, the life you live. It doesnt end, your journey of trying to find the real you. Nothing ends. You slowly become worse, you slowly lose yourself, you slowly die. And you cant get back, to the fake you, to the one who was atleast kind of happy.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 3:36 PM UTC
You look around
Is it suffocating or enlightening
Are you swimming or drowning
Are you free or engaged
own yorself or be enslaved
Who really gives a sshit but you
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC