This Isn'T a Poem
Pardon me if I don't come correct with this poem
Everything I have will be left in this poem
Go ahead and judge me I really don't care
You haven't lost my blood, Fought my battles or Shed my tears
Damaged goods, how else could I describe myself?
24 years of self hate, but I'm finally starting to like myself
It was only recently I realized that even though nightmares become true
Doesn't mean your nightmares have to become you
I always felt like I'm not allowed to feel happiness
I tried to take from my pain to feel more pain
silent, while my bipolar became my advocate
Made me act out in ways that people just don't look at me the same
I feel more close to hate than love
Because I've been punched by people who should have Gave me hugs
I don't mean physical punches, My parents Picking alcohol over me hurt a lot
Ironic how my parents were pouring Vodka and didn't think their own son was worth a shot
I look to the sky and hope my dads not there
Because if I go to heaven I'm going to punch my dad, I swear
I hope to find complete inner peace, I don't want to take my bad thoughts there
I shouldn't have wrote this, it's just my sad thoughts shared
I double rhyme in most lines, cause that's how I know how to rhyme
I've got my next 12 poems finished before this, I need to slow down my mind
I broke down, I'm fine
Tears falling on pages, when I wrote down my rhymes
I write from a place of pain,Delivered with the arrogance that I survived it
This isn't a poem, these are tears that my eyes missed
I should have probably left this pain in my heart and never wrote it
But who's worse?, me for sharing pain in my heart, or the people and things that broke it?
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