I am still picking up the pieces
Lost a couple of them
I lost them.
The pieces of my broken heart,
my broken soul, my broken mind.
Even a sorry wouldn't mend it.
Even a sorry wouldn't help it.
(maybe i like it)
I know i was guilty
but somebody should've helped me.
I was sailing a sinking ship
falling in an endless pit
trailing nothing but me, just me.
Don't you know happiness is a myth
but seems like nobody believes it.
I am scared of those footsteps
I am scared of those deeds
I am scared of those howlings
I am scared of those breeze.
Is the world too big
or am i just shrinking
or have i become Alice?
Is it just me
or it's still not morning?
Is it just me, or
the nightmare's really returning?
I am scared that I'll see
him there, see him back.
I am scared of those
voices that echo all night
I am scared of what's
waiting outside.
I am scared of those shadows
and scared of those things-
that won't go out of sight.
I am just scared of me.
I can't help but pity
...ah, it sucks to be me.
*A/N:please tell what you think about this. Any changes or improvements needed along with your opinions about this story and the other ones. Thanks for reading!*
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Poetry"Is happiness really a myth". A collection of the most cherished pieces of my soul: my poems. The things I wrote when I loved, when I hated, when I raged, when I dared and when from reality, I escaped. My poems are a way for me to get away from the...
