I hate being mad
And i hate being mad at you the most
Because I know I'm not actually mad
No matter how much i feed myself that line
I'm not really mad
I'm hurt
To the point where being mad is easier
I didn't tell you how much it meant to me for you to be there
For you to show up
I was so excited for the two most important people in my life to meet
I didn't care what the day was
I was excited for that
But you weren't there
No text
No call
You hadn't opened any message I sent you
You just weren't there
And the worst part was I wasn't suprised
And I get it
Your mental health makes you flaky and that comes first
And feel so stupid for being mad
But I can't help it
I was so excited
YOU ARE READING
poems from a Boy who doesn't write poems
Poetrythese are some poems I've written when I couldn't figure out any way else to get out what I was feeling.
