people are looking,
there all talking.
is it about me
if it was i would only agree.
the harsh words glide in my head
i should've just stayed in bed.
my breathing gets heavy,
are they still talking about me?
i want to curl up into a ball,
i feel so small.
are they talking about my weight?
i guess this is my fate.
is it about my face?
i knew i looked a disgrace
what about my hair?
or the clothes i wear,
god i just want to disappear.
it's all getting to my head,
i'll just go back to bed.
YOU ARE READING
short storys/ vent
Poetryjust a bunch of chapter/book endings (mostly sad) i hope you had a good time reading yhis bc my dyslexia didnt have such a good time writing.thank the lords for auto correct
