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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2289726
this too shall pass.
The down in my comforter lumps together in pockets
Like dirty snow.
I pull it over my face
To block out the
night
I so quickly start to regret.
There seems to be a fundamental flaw
In how I see myself.
So I will retreat.
Under this blanket.
And here, let the tears come.
Because despite my best efforts...
I can't seem to stop this feeling
Of being so unworthy
Of space on this planet.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2289726-06102021