Poetry has taught how one expresses their feelings without speaking.
Rainy weather is the best weather.
It shows that even the sky cries.
You hate the fact that you have to wait until you’re 18 or 21 to truly enjoy and live life.
It feels as if you’re waiting. Like you’re always waiting for something.
Waiting for everyone to hate you, for your family to hate you, to fail.
Even though you’ve felt much worse feelings, this waiting to be alive and whole is the most tormenting feeling ever. Maybe instead of waiting to be alive, you’re actually waiting to die.
This feeling in your gut awakens and for a brief moment you’re left lost and confused.
Like you’re air and no one can see or hear you.
You like to think of the feeling as if you’re actually waiting for someone. As if someone is just going to waltz into your life and turn it upside down.
This waiting game is slowly killing you.