I started feeling misery
That it became the only thing I could feel.
That it became the only thing I could think about.
That I stopped trying to hide it.
That I stopped trying to fight it.
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…
There is nothing beautiful in this story
And it will never be.
Poezie publicată anonim.