I feel a little cold.
And a little angry.
I feel a little scared
And mostly alone.
I feel that chill seeping deep into my bones
I can feel it making a home around my heart
Just as it did
One month apart
Seems like forever to me
And now I’m limited on how to be free
And I don’t quite feel like I’ve got my future right
I feel like I’ve kind of lost my foresight
And it makes me a little scared.
And a little mad
I feel like raging, but then feel bad
Who am I to want to cry?
I’ve got a great life, so why?
Why am I angry and why am I sad?
Why do I mourn something I never had?
Maybe I’m making it up for the show
But it feels more like I’m trying to hide a blow
And feeling guilty for the bruise someone else left
But I couldn’t possibly let this make me bereft
Over everything I own
So I’ll enjoy what I have
And stop staring at the ceiling
Wondering how I got so sad
This is a very personal poem for me. I wrote it during an emotional time, a damaging time, and I believe I capture most of what I feel through the lines. Felt. I would like to change my style, and I believe I will soon. Writing sad poetry only constructs sad thoughts, surprisingly.