Poetry At 25

I write this out word for word for you To show that you are wrong. That even though you think so differently, This is not where I belong. I have tried in so many other ways I tried to sing it in a song. I even tried to shout it out to you, That this is not where I belong. You still seem so ignorant, Even though you sang along, To these ways in which I tried to tell you This is not where I belong. I don’t know how to tell you otherwise, So I might as well go on. To live my life without you knowing That this is not where I belong.

I put my shackle on every morning  To keep me sane throughout the day.  I put on one, not two To keep a bit of freedom in my way.  I see it shine from a reflection  More like a bracelet, not a chain.  How its beauty hides its function  So it wouldn’t be to blame. 

Running around in circles Echoes in my mind Each thought unnecessary Though valid in my eyes Clouds of useless thoughts Shadowing over my life Each one self-destructive As I struggle to get by Floating in opposite directions Wanting to follow every line But the lines get tangled More than I would like Trying to find peace To find silence once and for all Still the thoughts come pouring And they will be my fall

When is it going to end? This continuing line of men. The same cycle on and on Of novelty, longing and love. And then, the heartbreak, the hurt. Thinking there will never be a new one.  And then, there is.  And it starts, again.  The same cycle Over and over again.  Feeling invincible, in sync.  Feeling at home.  Feeling accepted.  Only to be crushed Again.  How do people do it? Finding one man. Having the cycle once. And never again.  For everything to be fine. Building a life with this guy. To have no doubts. To be certain.  Of everything  Everything in your life. Feeling invincible, in sync.  Feeling at home.  Feeling accepted. Never to be crushed. (Again) Though I am Crushed. Heartbroken. Lonely.  And then there is the new one.  A better one, a new one.  Only to be crushed, again.