Misery

I started feeling misery

So much

That it became the only thing I could feel.

So much

That it became the only thing I could think about.

So much

That I stopped trying to hide it.

So much

That I stopped trying to fight it.

So much

That I started feeling comfort in it.

However, this comfort is not the usual type,

Is my desperate attempt to find the beauty in everything.

“What could be beautiful in misery?” You may ask…

Nothing.

There is nothing beautiful in this story

And it will never be.

Poezie publicată anonim.