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Loneliness

Poem

By Bleu LotusPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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At the end of the day there's no one who can tell you...youre beauitful..

A broken wound does not always heal.

Every so often you just picked at the scab thinking it would get better but it just won't.

You can't just keep at picking at it and peel the dry top layer of ur dead skin and it would go away.

It's not how it works.

At the end of the day I'm just alone.

I start a conversation with myself because I'm that lonely and want the attention of another person.

Physically they aren't there.

Mentally they are.

The only people who are actually there for you is

You, yourself and I.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Bleu Lotus

Another melancholy plant-based poet

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