when apathy becomes a burden, you fake to yourself
you force your tear ducts to unseize
but the block in your chest prevents the emotions from seeping in
in your mind, the heat's never on
summer means cold basements and black curtains
the slight sunlight is hope seeping through your window
this is real, this just a reminder of the past.
happy people living elsewhere, yet in the same house
this house is not a home, not when you're careless.
they all seem so distant; their presense is so close
but their feelings are so far away.
they slip around corners, they hate the way i am
scream out envy to the prejudice, they still won't hear a sound.
they won't listen to me scream.
they won't hear my last breath.
Author notes
this is why i want the fuck out of my house.
Comments
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Excellent
The flow in this poem is magnificent. This poem has a depth of imagery and details. I love your figurative speech.
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