It Still Hurts Though

Posted on by tweakuniqueblog

I feel like texting poems like
how I guess you sext
the potential friend
on the screen…
You can see what’s next:
My companion: imagination.
My comfort: non-existent.
Another wandering path
of pitiful persistence.
I’m sorry for myself
lying alone in bed
staring at my phone
sideling pillow ‘neath my head

yet this is but a slice of life
compounded to a whole
crests
troughs
valleys
mountains

depressions suck and pull

I’m happy in my sadness;
alone in isolation;
looks like the key to sleep
comes from some maturation.

My opinion of myself
isn’t built on theirs or yours.
My opinion of myself
stems from worth in chores.

I choose this temporary lonliness
affirming authenticiy.
I don’t text false idols
who mirror insecurity.

It still hurts though

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Published by tweakuniqueblog

Hi, I’m Andrew, but I go by TweakUnique. I looove spreading smiles from cheek to cheek. Daylight moves us as morning passes we all get up off to our tasks with a new tomorrow dividing our time; imagine, would you? Less sorrow this time? That’s my dream and waking habit - follow the steps and then we’ll have it. Place your bets step with science develop plans with confidence. We move together whether we like it or not. Shared air is shared weather, or have you forgot? Trash you dish is trash you’ll eat - what goes around comes around. Gravity. The way we walk is by falling just a little; if you wanna fly high dive into BIG riddles. Practice morally communally in mind. Creativity unravels unrest. It unwinds.