Brittany's Poems
Over it...
Nothing is ever the way that you want it to be.
You know that things aren't bad,
You're actually doing all right,
But that doesn't matter.
You're still not happy.
You can't explain why.
Sometimes, you feel empty inside.
Other times you feel like you're jumping out of your skin.
But there is always this feeling that you can't explain,
It makes you hate everything.
Well, maybe not everything,
But it makes you hate yourself.
All you want to do is stop this feeling,
And you start to believe that this isn't any way of stopping it.
There is no way of making things better in life.
Then this idea comes,
this sliver of an idea that makes you wonder,
"What if I did? What if?"
But you know you don't have the guts
And you feel worse because now,
on top of everything,
you are a coward.
So, you wake up and you put on a smile.
Like you do everyday
And you hope to God that no one notices that it's fake.
And you laugh at all the jokes you might have a while ago
And you smile for pictures.
When you see the pictures they make you sick
Because you're so fake and "happy" in them
And you hate yourself for lying to everyone.
And you can't understand how people don't notice that you aren't happy at all.
But you thank god that they don't.
You want them to like you,
As if it would help,
But you can never believe that they do,
Who would like someone like you?
And you live your life thinking that there is nothing good about you
And that there is no way out,
Well, maybe there is a way out,
But you're still a coward.
All you know is that no one else in the world is feeling the way that you do,
that there has to be something wrong with you.
All you want to do is escape,
Permanently.
No one would miss you,
And if they did,
They'd get over it.
You know that things aren't bad,
You're actually doing all right,
But that doesn't matter.
You're still not happy.
You can't explain why.
Sometimes, you feel empty inside.
Other times you feel like you're jumping out of your skin.
But there is always this feeling that you can't explain,
It makes you hate everything.
Well, maybe not everything,
But it makes you hate yourself.
All you want to do is stop this feeling,
And you start to believe that this isn't any way of stopping it.
There is no way of making things better in life.
Then this idea comes,
this sliver of an idea that makes you wonder,
"What if I did? What if?"
But you know you don't have the guts
And you feel worse because now,
on top of everything,
you are a coward.
So, you wake up and you put on a smile.
Like you do everyday
And you hope to God that no one notices that it's fake.
And you laugh at all the jokes you might have a while ago
And you smile for pictures.
When you see the pictures they make you sick
Because you're so fake and "happy" in them
And you hate yourself for lying to everyone.
And you can't understand how people don't notice that you aren't happy at all.
But you thank god that they don't.
You want them to like you,
As if it would help,
But you can never believe that they do,
Who would like someone like you?
And you live your life thinking that there is nothing good about you
And that there is no way out,
Well, maybe there is a way out,
But you're still a coward.
All you know is that no one else in the world is feeling the way that you do,
that there has to be something wrong with you.
All you want to do is escape,
Permanently.
No one would miss you,
And if they did,
They'd get over it.
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Over it...
Over it...
