When will I ever be worth it?

When will I ever be worth it?

Stopped calling names and told it’s ended.

It’s not an everyday occurrence but it might as well be, because you belittle and drown me every fucking week.

It could be the smallest of things or bickering back and forth, you end up treating me like shit making me feel like dirt.

It’s always something, or I’m “bitch”. You tell me to shut the fuck up or call it quits.

I always end up surrendering after losing my shit. What else am I suppose to do when you treat me like this?

You end up apologizing after realizing what you’ve said and done, “it’s never gonna happen again” you say, you put it on your sons.

But mistakes repeated are no longer mistakes, you’re choosing to break.

Flowers can’t always suffice for apologies, you need to change your ways.

Because if you don’t treat me right, someone else will, then what? It’s gonna be my fault why I left, you suck.

You always tell me you’re gonna be “better”, well I’m also sick of your false promises – they’re always broken.

You make me feel so low and not confident.

This is why I struggle with self worth; Your cousin did this same shit but you may be worse.

I just want to be worth it than most. I wanna mean something and be enough for it to stop. Just tell me you love me and lie, I’ll believe it eventually if not.

When will I ever be worth it?

Maybe you’ll care when I die, and you’ll regret the shitty things you done to me as you kiss me goodbye…. 😔


Poetic Sadness

No one understands what it’s like – to feel lost and lonely inside.

You wake up  wishing the pain would just go away, but it stays trapped in your mind like a vigorous wave.

Scars on my skin and scars on my soul; Some scars are exterior and others are within, they all tell a story but most stay hidden.

If you knew what went through my mind, you’d think the devil was confined. These demons have tried escaping through paper and time.

The tears I’ve cried are angels from heaven, they know I’m suffering carrying this burden.

I ask that that they keep me safe and heal my broken heart, but time will tell if I’m worth it or not.

Though this girl couldn’t be sad anymore, for I became numb. Somehow that got worse and death to a fixated curse.

Painted smiles on a face, it was the perfect disguise. It’s like a master at the brush telling infinite lies.

You see the dimples show through and a laugh so contagious, but my wrists are now stained and my eyes cry insane.

Not strong enough to continue any longer, so God take my soul – for this was too much to handle.

So I’m sorry to say that the devil has won the battle…

Now the angels cry of sadness as my funeral’s at the chapel.