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My Own Suffering
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Learning from the Past I’ve known the depths of depression,
how it can cause a heart to cave in.
It feels like emptiness,
when in actuality
it’s the weight of my pride
crashing down.
I’ve only known my own suffering.
And every tear wasn’t a cry of pain,
but a ploy for attention.
It wasn’t a pouring out,
but a reaching for more than
what I already had.
I can pretend that it’s selfless pursuit,
my so-called desire for love,
but it’s the most self-seeking scheme of man.
It’s so arrogant to expect something
when I truly have need of nothing.
And my heart has never known true sorrow;
it has been numb to
any proper display of emotion.
