When My Daughter Cries

By The Bitter Poet
- 84 reads
I see the pain behind her eyes, with an avalanche of tears held back by an empty smile.
Wandering the ruins of a psyche once owned by the “it's okays and I’m fine” throughout the years
A tormented silhouette that carries unsolicited burdens on her narrow shoulders, too heavy for Atlas to bear.
Negative thoughts are a loyal companion that vows to never abandon her, like the ghosts of her past.
The ashes in her heart replaced the euphoric soul of a juvenile who was once consumed with the mythologies of life
Her sobs are a symphony of anxiety, depression, and hopelessness skillfully led by self-loathing as an eager conductor
A cry for help that condenses immediately at the gates of her lips, for happiness is a rumor to a shattered heart
Her scars will heal but barely fade, yet we will never hear the deafening sounds of my daughter's wails.
The Bitter Poet
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