TW: metion of death/being dead
You'll stand there and stare
While we're torn to pieces
You don't say anything
When we beg and plead for help
You refuse to look
When we need your help
You turn your back
As we get hurt
You stand over us
We're dead
You pretend to be hurt
Pretend to have been our friend
You say we were good people
If we could speak we'd call you out on your bullshit
But we're dead
And this time we can't speak
So there's nothing more to listen to
(16/7/21)
YOU ARE READING
A Glimpse Into My Brain
PoetryMy jumbled up brain written out in poetry Please read the note in the book before reading
