This is a poem that I wrote.... 3 years ago (damn I'm getting old :P) It was actually for school, and I'm pretty sure my teacher never looked at me the same afterward....
Different Now
She was tired, says the bed left undone.
Frustrated, says the countless hair products
Strewn next to the detangling brush.
Ready to give up, says the school books
On the carpeted floor, soft and blue like the sea.
Ready to get away to another world, says the novels
About made up people like her,
But with different situations than she.
Some worse and made her weep, says the salt water left on the pages
Some better that she envies, says the scratched out names
Of characters, replaced with her own
Happy says the smile on her face
In the family holiday portrait, but what about her eyes?
Well I can see they tell a different story.
A story that has never been told.
A story about her, kept under lock and key,
Held captive by her own hurting heart
To protect her.
She’s not like she once was says the hidden
Journal beneath her mattress, where nobody
Could unleash its many aches.
She wishes for someone she could confide in,
Says the tears that lulled her to sleep last night,
Still leaving her pillow moist.
Something’s wrong…
She’s different now
-Vizzy
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