12:34 a.m.
i don't think i want to write about love
i don't think i want to moan and groan over my
heart aching right now either
I kind of just want to sit here while these streams
of tears pour from my face and on to my bed spread
i'm not so much angry
i'm not so much completely sad
i feel, right now more than anything
disappointment
i'm disappointed in myself
and letting myself down is worse than
any heart break
than any betrayal
or any harsh word spat at me
because it was me.
why am i being so cruel to me?
YOU ARE READING
Letters never sent
PoesíaWords I simply couldn't find the courage to say feelings tucked away never to see the light of day.
