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by psg
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Experience · #2002500
a poem I wrote
VULNERABILITY

Sleep don't come easy without something to sip.
Reality - a term used loosely,
But I think I'm losin my grip.

Try to find myself in writing 'cause the truth is afraid of my lips.
Try to find validation in the movement of my hips.

But no body's ever loved me more than they hated themselves.
They say birds of a feather, guess these are the cards that I've been dealt.

Don't get me wrong,
I stay right with myself.
I know the truth is I'm just another notch in their belt...
My loneliness is spared,
Even if only for the night.
Even if all the ways they touch me
Are clearly a lie.

The truth is always hiding. I believe that it has to.
Otherwise, not many of us could get by
With the futile motions of our day to day lives.
The dullness propelling a never ending drive
For some kind if distraction to occupy our minds.

It saves us from staying & unpacking our baggage.
We get to pick people apart & pinpoint all that they're lacking.

Even though we know that less than perfect could easily be worth it.
The only scarafice being our own vulnerability.
The connotation of the word alone scares the shit out of me...
I can't decide what's more freighting,
Dying alone or having to expose the ugliest parts of my being.

I guess, now that I'm sitting here, thinking,
I can't help but wonder if the real dilemma
Is wondering
If someone actually sees me
As worth seeing.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2002500-vulnerability