Your Poetry Dot Com - The Things Left Unsaid

My family keeps telling me to be careful with my heart
But I’m the type of girl who’ll give it away and allow it to be torn apart.
I understand that love is not easy but I hope that someone would try
To love me like I want to be instead of making me cry.
I’m tired of being lonely and feeling like no one is on my side
And I’m even more tired of who I have to be, so instead I just hide.
I pretend to be someone that I’m not, instead of being someone that I am.
And when it’s all said and done I still managed to always feel covered in shame
Some days it feels like it’s just me up against a wall.
And in order to be free I have to risk letting myself fall.
I’m so use to not being caught that I’m afraid to even take a chance.
I feel like my life is swirling around me, it is almost like I’m in some trance.
The words that I say don’t make sense to me and the ones that do just hurt.
And the thing that’s worst is that there’s no one there to give me comfort.
So instead I just pass life on by, I leave so many things unsaid.
My world gets all shaken up and it's so frustrating cause know one knows whats in my head.
I know it’s wrong to feel this way but it’s the only way I know how to feel.
And I can’t believe in myself, because what is believable just can’t be real.
I’m laying her in a hell of my own making, yet here I am again trying to find someone to blame.
My hands just keep shaking because we all know my answer is always the same.
I avoid ever getting too close to anyone now
Or maybe I just forgot to, I lost my feelings and I don’t know how.
I always feel down on my luck, and sometimes I feel so numb.
I’m screaming out for help and no one will listen to someone who plays the victim.
So instead I just play it out like nothing is happening at home
Cause deep down it is killing me and I just want to be alone.
But the loneliness just tears away at what I feel inside.
Like someone’s ripping out my heart, taking it out for a ride.
I’ll admit my heart is cracked, beaten and ripped.
Patched up, bandaged and zipped.
I have no sense of what is real because the thing that I need is to heal.
I need to find something with true meaning something without a bargain or deal.
And if I come off a little rigid it’s not because I am.
It’s just I’m so used to living a life outside the picture frame.
If someone would give me a chance to explain who I once was.
You would learn that I only suffer for a cause.
It’s the only thing I ever knew and probably will ever know
But all that I ask of you is that what’s real won’t go.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ thecyanidesun