She told herself one thing.
She told herself something.
She told herself this thing.
She told herself those words and it burned more than expected.
She thought she'd cry.
She didn't.
Nothing happened, nothing came out.
She told herself words.
Words that mattered more than expected.
Words that stung.
She said to herself – I don't want this, I don't want to be this, I don't want to be here, I don't want to be, let me be nothing.
She told herself those words, and she disappeared.
That's the story of a girl.
This girl.
She should've stayed quiet.
YOU ARE READING
MIGHT AS WELL ENJOY IT
PoetryDuring a cold windy night, or a hot sunny day, maybe in between when there's rain and fire at the same time : feelings change but sometimes I'm still able to transcribe them on a piece of paper, or on a broken screen.
