His Thinking Read Count : 9

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I often find myself over thinking. 


Creating more issues than solutions. 


No matter how high I hold my head, I find myself at the lowest point once again.


It feels like an all time low. 


I have many things to ponder about, to let them spew their venom within my blood. 


My missing connection.


The others looking upon me as a mere dust particle.


The facility offering little sanctuary for my troubles. 


My long struggle all year to form bonds, bonds that I will cherish so dearly. 


Socializing is not my forte, nor is it something I do often.


In fact, from the start of middle school, socializing seemed much simplier.


You walk onwards to someone and introduce yourself and such.


As I grew older, such a thing became rare, I had grown a strong bond to silence. 


Yet, at this current facility, interaction on such a level seems all but a suicide mission for myself.


What if I am taunted?


Laughed at?


Talked about?


What must I do then?


What must I do when I am the target of cruelty, of countless taunts, of bad memories at the facility. 


All these questions, I ponder long and hard over.


Yet, even so, the answer is well out of my view.

Comments

  • Apr 20, 2019

  • Deep. I feel that too

    Apr 20, 2019

  • Apr 20, 2019

  • Apr 20, 2019

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