i used to write poems.

What happened?

Let's try again.



there's a shadow inside my chest
that's alive and
eats away at my sanity
and confidence

is it fueled by poison or intuition?
are the whispered words there
for my own good, or
to tear down what could make me
happy?

how will I know...how can I tell
I will only ever know when
it's too late
to change, or to learn from my
mistakes

I speak too bluntly these days
I feel too much
and becoming myself is the hardest thing
that I have ever had
to do

is it all wrong? Am I all wrong and
utterly hopeless?
I will let you know
once I find out.

I hope it won't be too late.