Wasting Away Poem by Brianna Wilkinson

Wasting away from the inside out,
my pain escapes as I begin to shout.
I bottle up my emotions for days on end,
and every day I have to pretend,
that I am happy with my life and the world around,
even though I wish that I could burry my past into the ground.
My past haunts almost every day,
and I hold things in that I wish I could say.
Like how I fell when you tell me you want me dead,
or how I cry all night as I lay in my bed.
These are the things that I have never said.
I cried myself to sleep last night,
as I lied alone in bed,
dreams and thoughts of fear and fright,
It is thoughts like these that I dread.
You tell me you hate me almost everyday,
you flip out when things don’t go your way,
then you end up telling me to move out, to go away.
But can’t you see that I go away a little every day,
as a little piece inside of just happens to slip away.
You yell and scream and threaten me as you begin to prey,
and you never stop to notice that I am leaving a little every moment,
a little every day..........
I am wasting away.