Trusting others is an important thing,
Yet so few choose to take the path.
When one is ignored as nothing,
It’s easier to say no thing at all.
Because on some level I don’t want others to know,
Just how truly broken I really am.
Behind the smile, one sees no joy I’ve ever had,
In a really, really long while.
Everything is merely a sham.
One could relive childhood, relive memories,
Yet for me that means reliving things, anxieties
I have long wanted to forget, distant memories
Of times scattered and shattered.
For me an autobiography is impossible,
When I say so much about me and more in my pages,
Although I don’t write about mages,
I write about the magic of my broken life.
The life of someone with barely any memories,
Of those earlier times.
No comments:
Post a Comment