it is the warmth and love, seemingly
meeting my needs and wants
without the ask of return
that makes me too able
to fall into
the quicksand
the laying in bed
staring at the ceiling
unable to do anything
it doesn't make sense
shouldn't it be that
being loved
makes me
better?
somehow in the summer and the sun
only the opposite seems to be true
and i find myself falling again
i hope to make it through
just one more season
and another one
next year
again
YOU ARE READING
Book #2
PoetryThe old one is old and cringey. So I made a new one! I'm not a freakish middle school fangirl anymore, so you can read my ideas without internally dying! Now, it's meme time. // (mostly short stories and poetry, with a lil bit of meme-y stuff (idk)...
