Hello again everyone!
I was reading through one of my writing diaries this evening to see if there was anything worth keeping, and I came across a poem that I didn’t remember writing. Judging from the state of my writing and the content of the poem, it is quite clear that my best friend that night was a bottle of red wine. People say that liquor makes us more honesty, and I think that this world could use a little bit more honesty, so I have decided to share this poem with you.
I can always tell how I’m feeling through my writing, it never lies to me and I never lie to it. This poem was written a few days after my ex-boyfriend’s birthday, after I had surprised him at his university. When I first found the poem, I didn’t remember writing it, but the more I thought about the date, the more I remembered. I remembered questioning our relationship around that time, and I remember him doing and saying things that put up red flags in my mind, but I just ignored them. Never ignore actions or words that put doubts in your head. Chances are, if they’re there, they’re there for a reason.
And so, the poem:
Sometimes I doubt my usefulness,
Sometimes I doubt my worth,
Sometimes I doubt the breaths I take
All the way from birth.
My thoughts: they become muddled;
My brain becomes a mess,
I think so little of myself
But of friends, I think no less.
They care for me, they love me,
They show me their support.
But when I look for reason to live
I always come up short.
I always miss the answer key,
The solution to the riddle,
Because every time I play the game
It plays me like a fiddle.