She.

She.

She sits in the back of the room.

Somedays she’s energetic and excited.

Somedays she’s solemn and quiet.

Someday’s she believes in the greatness of humanity,

and somedays she questions it.

Somedays she sits and thinks about her life,

and somedays she ignores it.

Somedays she feels the walls of the Earth crashing in on her, only letting up for her to gasp and sob.

Somedays she feels free and light, she feels like she can take on the world with all her might.

and she just might.

But, you see, she can’t do this until the other half leaves.

The half that makes her crazy and emotionally unstable.

The half that pushes people away, and is constantly putting her down with ghastly labels.

She is not me, yet she is.

She is one, that’s the logic,

yet she has separate conversations with herself when no one’s watching.

She.

She is a human being with her own set of problems,

she is not crazy,

she is not awful.

She is who she is,

and she just wishes she would accept that.

And maybe she could if you would too.

You may not think it’s true, but she knew your view,

and maybe if you could give me a chance, i would get through this blue, I’d cut through,

I’d be rescued.

Reviews

[Treason and Metal]

Okay.. Okay.. this is one of the best works I've read hands down.. Wow

[Sophia V]

Oh my goodness! That means so much to me! Thank you

[Treason and Metal]

Well.. Um great then.. there's a lot of great works on here.. I should be thankful to you guys I get to read raw emotive poetry for free.. that's the best deal ever..
😁😀😀