Poem #270

You fell into all those traps.
Trying to find your worth outside of yourself.
All things sweet, all things that bling and
carry an important name ended up being
the measurement of how much worth you gave to yourself.
But all you ended up doing was cluttering your mind and space.

Then came the shots and the smoke and doing
what you body screamed no to just to find validation from someone else.
You made yourself believe that high-tolerance for poison
and nights you don’t remember will make you so special.
You told yourself how you were supposed to feel but the hands of a stranger
will never bring you worth when your two hands can hold you up.

When the music was off and the material was out
you started to dig and dig in order to find something within yourself.
Every time you would peel off a new layer, you had to give yourself time to break.
There was nothing peaceful or inspiring in going through your own mind.
It only raised an excruciatingly painful question:
“What if I am actually nothing special?”

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