BrokenA Poem by Chassity Smith
I used to write. I used to smile.
I used to think living would be so easy. People say I'm still young but does it truly matter when the responsibility is all the same despite age? I'm a legal adult and I support myself as I always have. I often wonder how people can live so easily, so carefree, so.... happy. Do they not have the same struggles as I? Are they not the same as me? DO they not see they're working to live and they're living to die? It's not me I'm worried about. It's not me that I care about when I struggle. It's my daughter. My own that stares at me with big blue beautiful eyes and it breaks my heart. The pain I feel when she looks at me and laughs uncontrollably is unreal. I feel pain because I'll never be able to give her what she needs. I'll never be stable. I'll never have a family that she deserves. She's not going to grow up with a loving family but with a mother who hurts so bad she doesn't want to get up. For everyone on the outside, they'll think she's the worst parent when in all reality she loves her baby so much it's literally killing her. Pain. Pain so crippling that it never ends; there's just good days and bad ones. The good ones consist of faux smiles and laughter. Of empty eyes that never truly see and hollowed ears that never really hear. Of mechanical movements that seemed to be programmed into the brain. Everyone sees what they want to see because they don't truly want to know what lies beneath. She's broken..... I am broken...
© 2016 Chassity SmithFeatured Review
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3 Reviews Added on March 22, 2016 Last Updated on March 22, 2016 AuthorChassity SmithAboutI am new to this entire thing but I hope to help someone some day through my writing. I suffer from severe depression and that is mainly what I write about. I normally write when I'm feeling the worst.. more..Writing
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