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Perfect

How?

By Abigail TruesdalePublished 9 years ago 1 min read
Perfect?

I wish I could see myself through his eyes.. he called me perfect,

he says I’m perfect..

but his definition of perfect is different from mine..

I’m far from perfect..

I’m damaged and broken..

I’m fake..

the me he thinks he knows..

Isn’t me at all..

I put on this show for everyone..

that I’m happy and content with my life..

but inside I’m screaming and crying out for someone to see through my bullshit and help me reach the surface again..

because I’m drowning..

and I’ve been drowning for awhile now..

and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to survive this..

sad poetry

About the Creator

Abigail Truesdale

19. Engaged. Poetry. Photography. Music.

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    Written by Abigail Truesdale