the truth

The truth is that I write in order to fight against my pain and heartache

I am miserable and I need others to feel my misery so that I will feel less miserable

I know it is selfish

i am trying to hard to change

i do not even recognise myself anymore

i am permanently living in winter

summer seems like it is non-existent

my heart is frozen so much that even when I am cold I do not shiver

I have turned into someone I no longer know

here i am a stranger

but at least i am speaking my truth