PTSD


I'm sick of being lonely just stuck in a box. I'm sick of holding on to things that I've had, and then lost. I'm sick of always thinking I am good enough, but in reality I'm not. I'm sick of all the pain. I'm sick of all the games. I'm sick of my mind playing tricks on me each and every day. I'm sick of losing more than I gain. I'm sick of glancing in the mirror and crying with shame. I'm sick of living a life of being detained. I'm sick of looking around, and no one is the same. I'm sick of people with perfect frames and reasons to aim. I'm sick of knowing that deep down I'm to blame. I'm sick of no one wanting to hear my name. I'm sick of twisted memories that drive me out my lane. I'm sick of lying to myself when I just realized that I'm the one insane. I'm sick of knowing that nothing will ever be the same.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem