am i unlovable?
i don't feel like a used blanket
or a worn down picture
i feel like a dull knife
or a dying flower
something to be used and discarded
something not to be stayed
because frankly
no has ever stayed
i am unlovable.
YOU ARE READING
set fire to my soul
Poetrythis is a story of my feelings. all words are mine in this unless otherwise specified. enjoy :) Warning: mature language
