It is nights like this
When the day finally catches up
Whispering softly
Softly
now
Increasingly abrasive
You Try to remember so many things
How you are unique
How there’s potential within
How so often you’re told You shine so bright
How you may be a normal girl but still beautiful outwardly
How only grace makes the ugly within beautiful to the only one who truly cares
How You can still be smart in a smart family
How favoring a lack of substance; doesn’t make you empty headed
How painful it is to desire love so badly
Yet. Realize its out of reach
Or
you simply lack the patience, gumption, and dedication to be worthy of it.
Yet. Realize it just makes you a joke
Or
The effort is wasted on a brief respite that refuses to pay off
Yet. Realize semi perfection doesn’t cut it
Or
Deep down each email relaying intelligence related honors is just a reminder it doesn’t matter
Yet. Realize Grace and Mercy never seem enough
Or
I simply choose to refuse what could be extra glue to hold the cracks together
Yet. Realize you don’t even fit with normal beautiful girls
Or
Falsely believe sticking to you, is as beautiful as beauty can be.
Yet. Realize the gaps in your effort dragging potential friends into false contentment
Or
Wonder what is so wrong with me that I apparently push against authentic for what is needed.
Yet. Realize potential is wasted in inaction
Or
Second guess you possessed it in the first place.
Yet. Realize unique could mean freak.
Or
Perhaps you were never as well hidden as you hoped.
You neglect to try many things anymore.
Abrasively
Increasingly more so.
Now
You long for softness.
For whispers rather than stunned, disappointed silence.
It’s days like these
That I long for the night to catch up
Even to escape for a moment.
A poem By L.V. Roy