"So... what are you
trying to seek?"
Her, asking in a nonchalant tone—
made me feel worthless and weak.
"Their love.
And... Care."
Loud thoughts, turned
into a whisper.
Tears, desperate to escape
these eyes of winter.
Yet, all I received was
that unfazed stare of her.
"Have you found what
you are seeking for?"
"I have not"
—therapy session
YOU ARE READING
Loving in the Dead of Winter
Poetryloving you is like walking through those sharp glasses. it's getting more painful as I keep going.
