The Real Me?

It’s like I’m drowning in my own pool of thoughts. I can’t seem to resurface and I can’t seem to find the light everyone is talking about. Where am I?

It’s like, I’m standing still but everyone around me is walking, running, sprinting. I can’t move, I can’t even begin to catch up.

Glass half full, glass half empty, I don’t think anything is in my glass.

I’m breaking, can anyone hear my pleas, my screams? The blade takes away the temporary pain but it all comes back when I’m covered in disappointment for caving. Help.

Am I even good at this? Will I be good at anything? Will it come together or am I another dead on the inside amateur writer?

This is raw, this is my pain, this is the real me.

 

And I just posted it on the internet.

Can you hear me?

 

Ashtree.

2 thoughts on “The Real Me?

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