I find it easier to smile
Than to show how I’m hurting.
I prefer to help in any way I can,
Anything to seem asserting.
No matter how long I spend
In sorting out the facts,
Something secret will slip
Through the unfilled gaps.
There’s no way that I can open up
Without seeming insane.
I gotta admit, though,
This facade is becoming something I know I can’t contain.
Stability and tranquil,
It was all I had really hoped for,
But now being honest and true
Has become my own daily chore.
It all looks like a nosedive from here.
I don’t think my future has ever looked more unclear.
About the Creator
Grace Guzman
I write about what I like, poetry and my Top Tens.
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
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