Why am I more forgiving of others
than myself?
She pressed me and asked me
Why am I more forgiving of others
than myself.
I stared into her face,
thinking of all the ways I wished
I answered her.
That maybe I deserve my misery.
That maybe I haven't earned forgiveness.
That maybe I have more faith in my family than me.
That. That. That. That. That
I don't know if I can forgive myself yet.
She thinks I am better.
Let her think this.
I'll be better off. Better soon.
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Caffeine and Me
PoetryA collection of poetry ranging from brain farts to exploring why I bother getting up in the morning. Most likely there is some form of caffeine to keep me awake (or alert) enough to type my thoughts out regarding my depression, struggles within my d...
