Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

What’s Wrong?

I told you,

I was lost,

and you didn’t understand.

It felt so foreign in my throat,

to tell the truth,

scratching against my intuition,

but I did it,

with good intentions,

because my vague whispers of “I’m fine” wound you,

in a way I don’t want to.

I’ve lived in many places,

but I’ve never had a home.

“I don’t belong here” is the only pin I’ve found that fits on a map,

but sometimes,

I’m still happy,


today I was not,

and I couldn’t tell the total truth,

because words,

as well meaning as they are,

make more wounds,

and honesty is a fallacy,

and you wouldn’t understand.

Not to patronise or condescend,

but there’s a movie in my head,

Black Mirror,

choose your own adventure,

and sometimes,

I find myself lost,

in all the paths,

I wandered down before,

because I’ve never had a sense of direction,

or the ability to distract myself from how distracting despair can be.

I told you I was lost,

and you didn’t understand.

You wandered down old paths,

with broken stones,

overgrown weeds,



apple trees,

and just like that,

you are just like me,

lost inside the movie,

pacing down the path,

avoiding the haunting hall of mirrors,

that shows all the heartbreak I’ve harvested,

in various awkward angles.

You get lost too,

seeing yourself,

on a path that isn’t meant for you,

and I try to pull you back,

but it’s too late,

and we are lost together,

but so distant.

I told you,

I was lost,

but I should have said,

that I was just tired.

You’d know I was lying,

and maybe we’d still end up in the same place,

but it would give me a chance to say,

that whenever I get lost,

I always find my way back,

to you.

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