As I lay on my bed at night,
my eyes wide awake,
and my mind running nonstop
even when I plead, asking it to stop.
Am I just "imagining" it,
or am I "exaggerating" it?
Perhaps I am.
Perhaps not.
Do I deserve it all?
The tears flowing down my cheeks,
my shaking legs,
my trembling hands,
the running to the washroom in an attempt to hide it all,
and crying the whole night
just to wake up as a "strong" person.
Maybe I'm overreacting?
Perhaps I am.
Perhaps not.
Because at the end of the day,
I know it's just me telling myself,
'I've survived this before, I can do this again.'
YOU ARE READING
Trapped in my own head
PoetryShe is an outcast. She finds it easier to express what she feels in the form of writing. Whether it is poems, letters or long texts. These are poems that she writes trying to describe how it feels to live with certain mental health issues, in a worl...
