I guess I'm not the nice person
Mom claimed I would
grow up to be
I can't smile cheerfully when people hurt me
I complain in a poem like this And think twice before helping anyone again
I guess I'm not a good person after all
I can't move on and pretend nothing ever happened
I sometimes wear my heart on my sleeves
I think it's okay to hurt sometimes
I sometimes stay true to the saying
"Once bitten twice shy"
I don't keep grudges
though
I have only learnt to set boundaries
The idea of what the world used to be
And the idea of what humans have evolved to be
Has left a mark on me and I sometimes feel lost
The world would tell you it's not okay to cry
They want you to be at your best always
Always putting your best foot forward
Like it's not okay to hurt at all
The world teaches pretence but I don't know-how
I'm sorry Mom that I can't be that person the world wants me to be
Thank you for your time.
My pen doesn't bleed, it speaks, with speed and ease.
Still me,
My tongue is like the pen of a ready writer.
Olawalium; (Love's chemical content, in human form). Take a dose today: doctor's order.
