My poem called Enduring Mr. Goodmorning

Letting go may fell like the right thing to do until u realize all the sweat time and tears u put into that shit u start making plans​ and ways to keep it. 

 Thinking maybe things aren't as bad as they seem even tho ur in a room with no doors or Windows and it's closing in. 

 Even then u try to find a way to maneuver and keep things civil and alive knowing that ur dying inside u try to live on the outside because people are watching you. 

 Keep ur mouth closed cuz u no no one is really gonna listen. 

 Water is starting to fill the already closing room and u try to stay afloat hoping that this is nightmare that u will one day awake from. 

 Eyes swollen scratch marks adoring ur upper arms cuz u hugged urself so tight. 

 Look on the bright side at least u know who ur monsters truly are.

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