It's a spiral, a cycle. An endless endeavor.
You go to people for comfort, they throw it back in you face.
Now you're right where you started, longing for comfort.
But you don't want to see them, they've hurt you, so you endure it.
...till you can't.
YOU ARE READING
꧁𝔼𝕪𝕖-𝕣𝕚𝕤꧂
Poetryvent themed poetry book I, the author am fine This is just for when I'm particularly mad and decide to use my more cynical characters being themselves to vent
