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Bisma

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

12 poems·Since December 2019
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December 1, 2019
Hot and cold, meaning, deceiving. What did I do? What did I do? I did nothing wrong or that's what I thought. You can't do anything right. You can't do anything right. I never did right. And now it's coming for my neck. I don't want no nothings. I'm a selfish person. Give it all to me and I shall give you nothing in return. But oh I did, oh I did. I did give you everything I owned. My heart, my soul, my passion, my dream, my brain, my body, my life. I gave it all to you. Still not enough am I? Never enough, never enough. The scars speak the story I can't tell. Hide them please, hide them all. Why hide when no one cares enough to notice them my love? Don't hide because I don't have to. No one cares how I feel. No one cares how I've been. No one cares about what I am. No one sees the empty me.
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