I’ve decided to post five of my most emotional poems, one each day. This is day two of me sharing my poems.
I don’t know if this can rightly be considered a poem. It has no rhythm and is just me pouring out words. Though perhaps that is what makes it poetry.
I can still distinctly remember writing this, and the thoughts that were behind it, though it was quite awhile ago when I wrote it.
She laughed and smiled, just a mask to hide the blackness
In her room
The thoughts began to flood her mind
She vainly shook her head
The one with the perfect family, the perfect life, the perfect friends, the perfect house
Don’t you know that the ones who hurt the most are often the ones you expect to the least?
The ones who laugh have to the most reason to cry
Locked away in the darkness of her mind. Every tortuous thought. But she can’t say them out loud
She’s supposed to be the perfect girl
They’ll hate her if they know that this perfect girl isn’t so perfect, that she might actually be human
They’ll be so disappointed
But who says perfect girls can’t be broken?
Why must she pretend that the ache in her heart and the darkness in her mind are just illusions?
Because perfect girls aren’t allowed to be imperfect