walking behind them on the sidewalk,
sitting somewhere else because there wasn't enough seats,
staring at them as they laugh and talk and bond
will I ever be enough?
we're all supposed to be friends, but it's like I'm not even here
do any of you even enjoy my presence?
am I just being tolerated and pitied?
I am not even the second choice, I'm the "everyone else is busy" choice.
since. birth.
it's like they all know something I don't
something that makes them likeable, easy to talk to, natural choices for friendship and romance
what is wrong with me?
why was I destined to be the last choice?
the desperate, the pathetic, the stupid, the annoying.
the lonely
YOU ARE READING
poems for the dead
Poetrywritings I suppose- mostly a vent, but only ghosts even listen so idk- also sry fer bein so angsty im just constantly sad for invalid reasons general trigger warning for the whole thing bc I forget in some chapters,, most of these are sad and may or...
