Background

I am no good. 

I grew up knowing, I was not a masterpiece. 

 

Damaged goods, the deception killed me. 

I can feel it now. 

It has brought me to my knees. 

 

Begging for anyone above, to 

have mercy on me. 

It just seems like I’m totally as 

fucked up 

as can be. 

 

What are Emotions? 

We all choose what to feel? 

 

I wish I could though,

My mind doesn’t understand what is real. 

 

What is this I hear? 

Voices softly speaking to me? 

"Go over the ledge!"

"After all, Brianna, you deserve your peace." 

 

My life resembles the truth of exhaustion, 

deceptions, deceived. 

What is told to me.

A pure example of lies. 

I am not sorry. 

I just couldn’t make it.

In this cold life.  

-Brianna Rodriguez

Reviews

[Lisasview]

Boy oh boy is this ever a sad poem.. I can see why you liked my poem Screams..
I wrote that poem in 1970..I was 22 years old... and i remember how I felt then as if it was today.
Reading your poem brought back those memories.
All I can say is that life does get a whole lot better.
You might like my poem Cry or Doorway...
Lisa, now in Spain