deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nothing
Why is it so hard for her to just express the way she felt? Express the way she feels what's inside; out loud? Why was she so scared of her own emotions? She was a trapped soul wanting to be set free. She screamed in silence, and vociferated voicelessly. Damaged beyond repair, emotionally, to where "sorry" is repeated, used as a cloak to assure your feelings weren't as wounded as hers were. Scared from the past how the words sliced through her flesh, ripping and taring the skin like if it was margarine. Making comfort inside her core, nesting, restless. Her insecurities flowing out of her skin; dripping like blood from her wounded Pride. Making her emotions just barely visible, but on the surface she's calm; steady.
Outside you saw her. until you peeked beyond the camouflage she created you would barely recognize who she really was. Nothing was a name that she knew very well, nothing was her identity. despite her past she couldn't help the attraction to return to what damaged her in the first place. Its a surrounding she was familiar with, somewhere she tried to get out of before, but gave up on. Emotionally abused to where she questioned herself on what was good. Nights were longer than her days, eyes swollen constantly due to the tears, and her mind was her prison where she often visited.
She would never request the help emotionally cause she questioned; how could someone yield a broken soul and help mend it together? Her wounds were deep and her scars were old. She believes there is no fixing what was marked permanently. Her face sometimes get caught in her thoughts that she was trapped in. At times, people would catch a glimpse of her face from within and inquire, but the only words she knew to reply was, "Nothing."
Outside you saw her. until you peeked beyond the camouflage she created you would barely recognize who she really was. Nothing was a name that she knew very well, nothing was her identity. despite her past she couldn't help the attraction to return to what damaged her in the first place. Its a surrounding she was familiar with, somewhere she tried to get out of before, but gave up on. Emotionally abused to where she questioned herself on what was good. Nights were longer than her days, eyes swollen constantly due to the tears, and her mind was her prison where she often visited.
She would never request the help emotionally cause she questioned; how could someone yield a broken soul and help mend it together? Her wounds were deep and her scars were old. She believes there is no fixing what was marked permanently. Her face sometimes get caught in her thoughts that she was trapped in. At times, people would catch a glimpse of her face from within and inquire, but the only words she knew to reply was, "Nothing."
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